


And a Pocketful of Gold

by Reb_Yell



Series: How Everything Still Turns to Gold [4]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Definitely by this point Season 9 AU, F/M, Otis will never die in my world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 67,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reb_Yell/pseuds/Reb_Yell
Summary: Becoming a parent was scary and crazy and tumultuous, but she didn't think there was a person on this planet she'd rather go through all of that with than Matt. Even if he was the strictest most over-protective pregnancy hall monitor anyone could imagine.Part 4 in a series that begins with What Was and What Should Be.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: How Everything Still Turns to Gold [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699705
Comments: 159
Kudos: 216





	1. Eight Weeks

One of the funniest things so far about being pregnant was trying to explain to Matt how they counted pregnancy weeks. Frankly, she didn’t really understand it either, that she most likely got knocked up six weeks earlier but was eight weeks pregnant. It was really sweet, though, that he was reading everything he could find about what to expect each week of pregnancy, what was going on in her body, and she was absolutely certain that he was going to be the world’s most anal-retentive husband for trying to make sure she followed every suggestion for a pregnant woman. Now that she knew she was pregnant, though, it was like the symptoms had gotten worse in just a week. She was tired all the time, especially, which didn’t really work all that well with the other ‘symptom’ – she was horny all the time. Her husband didn’t help. He could at least _try_ to be less sexy.

They had agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone, absolutely anyone, for a few more weeks. Sylvie understood the logic behind it, if they lost the pregnancy they didn’t want to have to go through that publicly. Matt, especially, had been through a lot of things publicly and for an inherently private man she knew that had made things harder. She never wanted to make anything harder for him. Dr. Nguyen had assured them that she hadn’t seen anything wrong or concerning or likely to create a complication, but still, it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. She knew that after twelve weeks, the risk of miscarriage dropped, and she’d eventually start to show. Besides, it wasn’t like she wanted to hide anything – she was married and happy and pregnant, there was nothing wrong with it. But if Matt didn’t stop treating her like an invalid, they wouldn’t be able to keep things quiet very long.

“I can get it.” Matt popped up immediately to answer the door. They’d ordered Chinese, because it was what she wanted. Right now, anything she wanted Matt was providing, no argument of any kind. It was kind of nice, and a little surreal. What was annoying was watching him limp to the door when she was perfectly fine. He was actually hurt – not seriously, only a twisted knee. She was just pregnant. Fighting with him was exhausting though.

“Sylvie, you want to eat in the kitchen or here in the living room?” Matt asked, bringing the bags into the house.

“Kitchen. We are not eating anything with sauces on this sofa.”  
“It’s been treated to be stain resistant.” Matt pointed out, but headed for the kitchen. “Give me a sec, I’ll come back-“  
“Matt, if you offer to help me up from the sofa when I’m carrying a baby the size of a raspberry right now, I will smack you. And not on your butt, because you’d probably enjoy that.” Sylvie called after him even as she stood up. She followed him into the kitchen, where he was already starting to plate the food. God, it smelled so damned good. She was starving. All the time.

“Did we get everything?”  
“Almost literally.” Matt replied with a grin. “Egg rolls, crab rangoon, one wonton soup for you and an egg drop soup for me, sesame chicken, broccoli and beef, fried rice, and General Tso’s, plus, of course, extra fortune cookies. For two people, we ordered a lot of food.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Sorry, three people.” Matt apologized, leaning forward across the counter/breakfast bar to kiss her gently. “You know I’m just teasing.”  
“You better be.” She replied, then grabbed his wrist. “Don’t put all that on your plate.”  
“Sylvie, you don’t like General Tso’s.”

“It smells fantastic. Give me some. Just a little bit.”  
“Alright.” Matt agreed, shaking his head, but he did put some of it on her plate. He didn’t like fried rice, so it was easy to tell whose plate was whose. Also, he was the only one eating the crab Rangoon. He would eat crab in pretty much any and every form.

“And don’t try to give me chopsticks. I’m too hungry for chopsticks, just give me a fork. We’re in our own kitchen, I can be culturally ignorant or whatever.”  
“Yes, ma’am.” Matt pulled out a fork, handing it to her along with her plate. She moved over the table in the dining area. She knew he was going to show off and use chopsticks himself. She didn’t mind, because that meant he’d eat slower than her, so she’d get more helpings in than he would. “What do you want to drink, Sylvie? There’s iced tea, water, lemonade, uhm…”  
“Yeah, the rest of that in there is yours. No solidarity from you.”  
“I can give up alcohol with you in solidarity, Sylvie.” Matt set an opened bottle of decaf iced tea in front of her, and a Coke for himself. “But for the health and welfare of everyone on second shift, I think it’s best if we don’t both go off caffeine at once. No one wants a repeat of Chief-on-a-diet and Stella being his support diet buddy or whatever.” He moved back to the counter, grabbing his own plate and sure enough, chopsticks, before settling into the chair nearest her. The table he’d built sat six even without the leaves that could extend it to seat a slightly crowded ten (though they didn’t have matching chairs for ten, just six, for now he said). Nonetheless, even with all that space, she always sat at the closest chair on the long end of the table, and he always sat at the ‘head’, next to her, not across.  
“You know, if we both stop showing up at Molly’s, people are going to worry about us.” Sylvie pointed out even as she dug into her food heartily.  
“You _can’t_ drink – that’s not exactly discrete. And I want to be in this with you.”  
“Oh, you will be. You are. Because you are giving me that, right now.” She pointed at his dinner.

“You have a plate-“  
“No, I want that chicken, the General Tso’s. It’s fantastic.”  
“Are you asking me to literally give you my dinner? Before I’ve even had a bite of it?”  
“There’s other stuff. Have that. I want yours. Clearly, this is _your_ child that is being demanding.”  
“My child.” Matt said softly, shaking his head slightly. If she’d wanted to manipulate him, she had a feeling she could get by with anything based solely on being pregnant for a very long time. He reached out, his hand resting over her still-flat stomach. He met her eyes firmly, as if he was trying to convey something vital to her. “I love you, so much. Thank you.”  
“I’m not giving you anything.” Sylvie kissed him lightly. “I’m taking, give me your dinner.”  
“You’re giving me the greatest thing possible, so if I have to give up my dinner – which you normally hate, you won’t even kiss me until I’ve brushed my teeth – that is a very small price to pay. But do I at least get dibs on the rest of the sesame chicken?”  
“Sure, whatever, just give me the good stuff.”

“I got a gift for you at the spa today.” Sylvie wrapped her arms around Matt from behind as he got out of the shower before bed. He’d been on a construction site all day, and although he did sometimes out of sheer exhaustion, he didn’t like going to sleep without a shower first.  
“Yeah? How’d that go, you and Christie and Violet?”  
“It was great.” Sylvie smiled genuinely. “Christie is teaching third grade this year. She seems to really love it.”  
“She wasn’t loving middle school the last couple years.” Matt remarked. “I think her breaking point was a pregnant seventh grader last year.”  
“Seriously? Seventh grade?”  
“Apparently. Girl was thirteen, barely. The ‘father’ was fourteen, an eighth grader. When I was in middle school I could barely speak to a girl I liked.” Matt shook his head. “I’m not going to say ‘kids today’ because I’m pretty sure it happened when I was that age, too, it’s just still…”  
“Yeah.” Sylvie knew what he meant. It was wrong on so many fundamental levels. “She seems really happy with third grade. Violet and Daniel are going to Homecoming together. Her dress is really pretty. She wants us to come over for pictures. We’re not on shift that night so I told her we’d be there.”  
“Good. Gives me a chance to tell him to keep it in his pants.”  
“Matt.”  
“You think Jim is going to do it? I was a teenage boy once, Sylvie. He’s a junior. Trust me, school dances by junior year….”  
“I don’t think Violet is a forty-something cougar so his virtue is probably safe.” She winced after she said it, because she didn’t really think bringing that up was the best approach. She knew, Matt had told her openly, that he had a lot of regrets about that. She moved around him, going up on her tiptoes to kiss Matt softly. “I’m sorry, that was kind of mean. Violet is very responsible, she has a good head on her shoulders, and you should trust her.”  
“I do. I just think a reminder to be smart if they can’t be good wouldn’t be out of place.”  
“Don’t embarrass her.”  
“I won’t. I promise.” Matt kissed her softly. He pulled back with a small smile. “You said something about a gift for me – at a spa? Not usually where I’d send someone who wanted to get me a present.”  
“You have no idea how hard you are to shop for. You’re like the only person I’ve ever met who genuinely wants _nothing_. How is that even possible?” Sylvie complained. His birthday was coming up next month, and Christmas the month after that, and he was ridiculously difficult to shop for. He’d be happy with anything or nothing. He wasn’t lying. He really would be. He was basically impossible. He’d looked at her like she’d lost her mind when she asked for a Christmas list.

“What could I need?” Matt shrugged lightly. “I’ve got a good job, enough food, enough clothes, a nice home, and a beautiful wife who is already giving me the greatest gift possible: you, and this little one, that’s all I ever need. You and her, healthy and happy.”  
“Her?”  
“I can’t stand calling our baby ‘it’.” Matt shrugged again, but he was blushing a little.

“You want a girl?” She was a little surprised by that, though she didn’t know why. She had just figured Matt would want a little hockey buddy or something first – a son. Didn’t all guys want a son?

“All I really _want_ is a healthy child.” Matt corrected. “I just, I don’t know, kind of want a girl first, if I could have my choice.”  
“First?”  
“Well, you did say ‘three’ so…”  
“Mm-hmm. And how do you picture those three breaking down – two girls and a boy, a girl and two boys, what?”  
“Does it matter?”  
“I’m just curious.” Sylvie insisted lightly. She decided volunteering would maybe make him feel less like there was an answer he was supposed to give. He still sometimes fell into that sort of thinking, like she had an answer she wanted him to magically know and provide. “If I could order our babies from a Sears and Roebuck catalog, as my grandmother used to say, we’d have at least one of each, of course, but I don’t know if I want two girls and a boy or two boys and a girl.”  
“You sure you want any more Casey men? I have it on good authority we’re kind of assholes.”  
“Your mother is just still mad about you being a jerk to Randy.” Sylvie barely resisted rolling her eyes. She didn’t dare to call Randy his stepfather, she did not want to start an argument, not tonight, not when she had other things on her mind – much more fun things. “You could be a little more welcoming to him, a little nicer.”  
“He could stop calling me Matthew and being a condescending shit every time he speaks to me.”  
“Your mother calls you Matthew, it’s just habit from what he hears.”  
“You know what I hear when Randy talks to me?” Matt sighed, rolling his head back for a second, then meeting her eyes. “I hear my dad. He’s just like him, the way he talks down to me like I’m beneath him, only instead of it being because I’m a fucking sissy faggot, it’s just that I barely got out of high school and work with my hands instead of his office job.”  
“Your dad…” Sylvie had never heard anything like that come out of Matt’s mouth, and she didn’t like hearing it in his voice. It was so unlike him, because Matt was anything but a bigot. He worked hard to give everyone a completely fair shake, male, female, any race, any religion, any nationality, any sexual orientation, any gender expression, Matt accepted and tried to understand. She loved it about him. He was so accepting of people, as long as they were honest. Well…okay, the thing they’d seen on television about polyamory had completely thrown Matt and he clearly didn’t accept or approve but…other than that, he was really accepting.

“Mom killed him because he said something, to her, about me that she couldn’t stand to hear said ever again. She’s never told me what it was, but I think I know.” Matt looked away from her. “He said I was turning into a little faggot, that if he put me in a dress he could call me Martha instead of Matthew and no one would know he had a son. I never even knew why. I played sports, I worked construction sites with him, I just…I couldn’t talk to girls. So I kind of…shied away from them. Mom told me it was normal.”  
“Your dad thought otherwise.”  
“It was like if I made it to sixteen and didn’t have a girlfriend, hadn’t had sex yet, I was defective or something. God, I think most parents would prefer their teenager not have sex. My dad said he lost his virginity when he was fourteen. Everything I did, he’d always done it better, faster, something. So, yeah, I can’t stand Randy because he’s the exact same way. You could tell Randy I won the Carter Harrison award and he’d have magically won the Congressional Medal of Honor or something.”  
“You know what? This is not what I want to talk about right now.” Sylvie decided. “I came in here, because I was hoping to catch you still in the shower. I have a present for you, and I think you’re going to like it.”

“Yeah? Something I could use in the shower?”  
“No, just something you can, uh, use naked.”  
“I already like it – you, me, and naked in one idea sounds good.”

“Well, come into the bedroom and find out what it is.”

  
They were in the middle of a pretty typical shift, neither quiet nor particularly busy, at least not for Ambo. Squad had been hopping, but everyone else was sort of a typical shift. She was kind of hoping that no one noticed that she was hungry all the time right now. At least she wasn’t having any kind of morning sickness, which would probably be a dead giveaway. She was really pretty lucky, her symptoms were relatively minor: really just the hunger and the tiredness. She didn’t think feeling attracted to her husband was a symptom, that was just standard for her: Matt was damned sexy. Though, she’d never really thought he was particularly sexy in his turnout gear before. Oh, it looked nice, but no matter how much the guys scrubbed that gear, it never smelled nice. But for some reason, Matt’s fantasy about sex in the cab of 81 was starting to appeal to her. The minor problem of it being a truck, in full view on the apparatus floor, well…there had to be some way around that.

“So, what’s up with you and Casey?” Foster asked, jerking Sylvie out of her thoughts.

“There’s nothing ‘up’. Is there?” Sylvie asked, surprised by the question.

“We all get that you’re newlyweds, but you’re never at Molly’s – and you live literally one minute away. On foot.”

“Matt’s really busy with construction work, and we just like spending time in our own house, that’s all.”  
“Uh-huh. That’s what’s had you spaced all morning. Admit it. You two are having hot monkey sex all the time. After all you have to keep your hands off for a full 24 hours on shift.”  
“It’s not…hot monkey sex.” Sylvie thought that term sounded too derogatory for what she and Matt had.

“Really? You telling me the captain isn’t all kinds of crazy between the sheets?” Emily looked disbelieving of that. “The quiet restrained guys are usually the kinkiest.”  
“He’s not ‘kinky’.” Sylvie defended him.

“Come on, girl talk now. Captain Casey’s a demon, isn’t he? He has to be. All that focus and determination, bet he’s one of those guys who just goes and goes.”  
“I’m not telling you that about Matt.”  
“You didn’t tell me, just confirm.”  
“I’m very happy with our sex life, that’s all I’m going to say.”  
“Rumor is he’s not…ah, you know, that’s…inappropriate.”  
“Rumor is he’s not what?” Sylvie asked, now _she_ was curious and pressing to know something. What had Emily been about to say?

“I just heard, you know, around that he’s you know, uncut.”  
“Who was even talking about that?” Sylvie asked sharply. “That is no one’s business.”  
“Rumor also is he’s not that big.” Emily shrugged. “I’m just saying rumor, not saying I know or even care. He’s not my husband.”  
“He’s your captain.”  
“Well, as you pointed out, he’s not really ours – he’s not our boss, officially. If he was, you’d have to change houses since you’re married now.” Emily paused. “I’m glad you’re happy, Sylvie, really. I shouldn’t have said anything, sorry.”  
“No, it’s not your fault. Stupid rumors start and the CFD is like its own small town, gossip and rumors everywhere.” Sylvie sighed.

“You don’t have to confirm or deny, but uh, I’ve found that uncut guys are bit more sensitive about a couple things, but that the whole cut-guys-last-longer-during-sex bullshit is a total lie. It’s pretty much the same. Although, maybe without a condom it would make more difference.”  
“I am very happy with our sex life.” Sylvie repeated, then reconsidered just slightly. Thanks to those pictures, some things weren't all that private any more, and Emily wouldn't exactly go around blabbing. “I don’t have enough experience to say if it has anything to do with a foreskin, but Matt lasts plenty long enough.”  
“So he is…. Huh, weird. That’s unusual for a white guy his age in the Midwest.” Emily shrugged. “You know, consensus at 51 is that you guys are never at Molly’s because you’re busily trying to get knocked up. So, when you do get knocked up, are you planning to stay on Ambo?”  
“I want to, as long as I _can_ do the job I _want_ to do the job.” Sylvie sighed, knowing they’d already started having this argument, though she couldn’t tell Emily that, at least not specifically.

“And Captain? What’s he think?”  
“If he had his way, he’d wrap me up in cotton wool and bubble wrap and never let me out of the house, let alone work on an ambulance pregnant.” Sylvie couldn’t help unloading a little. “I know he had some…he has reasons, but he worries too much. Pregnant women aren’t sick, they aren’t weaker, they don’t need ten layers of protections. I’ll be _fine_.”  
“Reasons?”  
“Gabby lost a baby, before they were married – they were engaged, but broke up, then quietly – like literally no one knew about it – got back together, she got pregnant, then they openly got back together, and she lost the baby. Well, really, there was never a viable baby, because it was ectopic. Then, they fostered a boy, were going to adopt him, but his biological father showed up and they lost Louie to his biological family, and then his marriage fell apart over trying to have a family with Gabby later, so he’s a little…I understand why he’s overprotective. But if he treats me like I’m made out of spun glass because I’m pregnant, I’m going to kill him.”  
“He already has everyone keeping an eye on you.”  
“What?”  
“You didn’t notice?” Emily asked, surprised. “He’s told everyone to keep an eye on you on calls – me, Herrmann, Severide, Otis, Cruz, Mouch, everyone, literally everyone. I mean, I think everyone is just humoring him – you don’t need watching, any more than we all look out for each other anyway – but he’s, Sylvie, I say this as your friend: your husband is going to be all sorts of a pregnancy nazi when you get pregnant. If he’s like this now, once it’s you and a baby together….” Emily trailed off, shaking her head.

“I’ll talk to him. Again. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d be really pissed about him telling people to ‘watch me’.” Luckily, Sylvie did love him, and she knew it was just his natural worry, an outgrowth of how much he loved her. Still, he had to find some sort of way to live with the fact that she was going to keep working, and everyone else had jobs to do on calls that did not actually include being her babysitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to keep up the once-per-day updates, but I can't promise anything: work is a bit of a madhouse right now. Still working from home, a situation that will (depending upon which panic-monger you read) last at least a few more weeks, or possibly until 2021. I'm betting on mid-summer, personally.


	2. 12 Weeks - Telling the Parents

Her relief at having avoided morning sickness lasted until she was eleven weeks pregnant. Something happened, she had no idea what, but it was like she woke up that week and bam, not just morning sickness but evening sickness too. She could mostly keep lunch down, thankfully, but mornings and evenings were hard. She was hungry, she ate, but she just couldn’t keep it down. By twelve weeks, Matt was worried about her weight, she was supposed to be gaining, but she wasn’t. He also just generally worried. He wasn’t being obvious, but she could see it, especially at work, that he worried every time she was out of his sight. If they weren’t out on calls, he was practically glued to her side. To assuage his weird proprietary or protective streak, whatever it was, she had taken to hanging out in his quarters, on his bunk, so he could get his paperwork done in the relative quiet away from the common room while also being near her.

They had started going to Molly’s again, mostly to stop the increasing teasing about them having to leave the bedroom at some point. Sylvie was perfectly okay with never leaving the _bedroom_ actually, and told Matt as much. If she had her way, she’d have him naked in her bed 24/7. Matt was generally agreeable to things she wanted right now, but apparently he drew the line at just going naked around the house. She had thought it was a nice compromise – he wanted to get out of bed, she wanted him naked and in bed, so naked and out of bed was the middle ground. Matt said something about windows and his more convincing argument was possible damage from not wearing pants in the kitchen – she liked the boys in perfect working order so, yeah, pants in the kitchen were probably a good idea, what with heating elements around and things like that. Matt had also told her they couldn’t expect people to not get suspicious or worried if they stopped going out altogether. She kind of wished she could fall back on the “I’m the driver” excuse for not drinking, but they lived steps away from Molly’s back door so that wasn’t really believable.

“Matt.” She looked at the drink he slid in front of her. They were out at Molly’s, waiting for the rest of 51 to trickle in. Mouch was already here, and of course Herrmann and Otis were behind the bar, but otherwise it was still pretty quiet. It was only 7:45 though.  
“It’s fine.” Matt leaned, kissing her cheek. “I asked for a Long Island Iced Tea-“  
“Not my favorite drink.”  
“But not one you’ve told everyone you don’t like, either.” Matt pointed out. “Don’t tell Herrmann, I dumped the actual drink in the men’s room and that is just plain old iced tea, decaf, I managed to bring in from home in a flask.”  
“You are an inventive man, Matt Casey.” Sylvie smiled, kissing him on the lips firmly, maybe for a little longer than was technically appropriate in a public venue. “Thank you.”  
“Hey, if you’re giving out thanks, I made the thing.” Herrmann remarked as he passed by.

“Thank you, Herrmann. But I’m not kissing you because Cindy would kick my butt.”  
“And his.” Matt laughed, but so did Herrmann. Matt had a beer in his hand, and she was content to just sort of daydream while he watched the Blackhawks game, his arm around her and their stools practically touching as she cuddled into his side at one of the back tables.

“Is that the happy newlyweds I see?” Stella practically shouted as she came in the door, Kelly right behind her. Sylvie braced herself as she pulled away from Matt, because sure enough, Stella practically tackled her into a hug. You’d think it had been a lot longer than 12 hours since they’d seen each other at the end of shift. “I was beginning to think you two were going to become hermits. I mean, Captain, don’t get me wrong, the house is gorgeous, but you have to come out sometimes. You’ve been married two months, almost.”  
“God, two months.” Sylvie grinned. “It doesn’t seem like that long.”

“That isn’t very long. I think even most of the Kardashians have managed to stay married two months.” Matt remarked.   
“Do you even actually know who the Kardashians are, man?” Kelly asked with a laugh.

“No idea, but I think they’re like half a dozen sisters who did some reality show about bad fashion, divorcing celebrities, and modeling. Something like that.” Matt shrugged easily.

“Baby, just…give up on pop culture.” Sylvie shook her head, laughing at him just a little. “Stick to your Blackhawks.”  
“I’d like to, but my DVR keeps getting clogged up with Real Housewives of something and real estate shows. And some reality show about yachting.”  
“You love me and my taste in tv shows.”  
“Half of that statement is completely true.” Matt grinned broadly at her, and kissed her swiftly.

“Don’t let him lie to you, he loves the Real Housewives of New Jersey.” Sylvie completely tattled on him. She laughed, as Kelly and Stella nearly spilled their drinks laughing so hard.

“You were watching a marathon. I came into the living room, and all I asked was ‘what is this _crap_?’ and she forced me to watch it and it’s…” Matt shook his head. “it’s a complete train wreck and I can’t stop looking at it.”

“I have been forced to watch hours of hockey. Not even live hockey, old matches being replayed. The least you can do is watch my trashy reality tv with me.” Sylvie pointed out, pinching his side lightly, then wrapping her arm around his waist and cuddling back into him. If she nursed this drink most of the night, they could stay for a while, appease their friends, and she knew, they’d have a good time. She had missed hanging out with everyone in Molly’s.

In order to get Matt there for the next ultrasound, they had scheduled it for the twelfth week. He was busy, tying up several small projects before the holidays, but at least, he was working at 51 this year not off at some other house. Sylvie wasn’t entirely sure she could stand him being gone. She hoped it was just hormones. She missed him horribly when he was just on a project for several hours. Because they’d had such an early ultrasound to confirm her pregnancy, Dr. Nguyen was having them do another one now so they could see the development and hear the heartbeat. All of it could have been done a week or more earlier, but Matt’s schedule had just been jam-packed and Sylvie hadn’t want to ask him to put anything off and she knew he wanted, perhaps even needed, to be around for these ‘big’ appointments.

Once they were called back, the nurse took down Sylvie’s weight, her blood pressure, and asked for a urine sample. Sylvie was already sick of peeing in cups for people, but she knew there’d be plenty more to come over the course of her pregnancy. It wasn’t so much an indignity as an inconvenience. She came out of the small toilet, handing the cup over to the nurse. Matt was failing to hold back a small grin.

“Shut up.”  
“I didn’t say anything.”  
“You’re smiling. That said enough.” Sylvie replied. “You’re a boy, peeing in cups is easier for you.”  
“If you say so.” Matt held up his hands in surrender.

“Just get used to it. Boys have it so much easier. You don’t have to be pregnant and have people checking out your lady parts all the time.”  
“And you don’t have to have a hernia check each physical so…trust me, we understand the awkwardness of people’s hands where you’re not sure you want hands.” Matt shook his head and closed his eyes in what looked like remember pain, or embarrassment. “My first sports physical I was twelve. My mother took me.”  
“Ouch, _mom_?” Sylvie winced a little at that, even as she settled into the uncomfortable position of the exam table. It wasn’t painful it was more uncomfortable because it was awkward.   
“Dad was busy at work, I think. My mother had some phobia about leaving me in the room by myself. We get to the end of the physical – my biggest worry had been that I might need a shot, no one explained anything about what to expect – and the doctor tells me to drop my pants. Trust me, being twelve and having to turn your head and cough with your mom in the room is probably more traumatic than you think.”  
“She really wouldn’t leave the room?”  
“Nope.” Matt shook his head. “Trust me, trauma abounds for young male athletes. Freshman year, I was cut from football because I didn’t pass my Tanner Exam.”  
“Tanner Exam?”  
“It’s a scale they use to assess puberty. Yeah, try explaining that to your dad – I can’t play football because I’m nearly fifteen but the doctor says I’m biologically 13.”  
“I’m going to guess your dad didn’t take that well.”  
“Not particularly, no.” Matt shrugged. “I was a little bit of a late bloomer. Thankfully, my hockey team let me play, so did baseball, with a lower score.”

“That wasn’t required for us, thank God. If my pediatrician had had to sign off on my level of puberty, I would've died.” Sylvie could only imagine that. Their conversation was ended by the arrival of Dr. Nguyen.

“Sylvie, Matt, are you ready to check in on your little one?”  
“Absolutely.” Sylvie grinned brightly, taking his hand as she settled back into the exam table. Her shirt was pulled up, the cool gel applied, and the screen turned so that Dr. Nguyen of course but also she and Matt could see it. A few expert swipes around, and there was their baby, tiny but now definitely baby-shaped. The baby was even moving a little, as Dr. Nguyen pointed out the arms and legs.

“So, with these measurements, I’m going to give you a slightly updated due date. Baby Casey should make his or her arrival right around the first of June.”

“Wow. Can you tell the sex?” Sylvie asked.

“Not reliably at twelve weeks.” Dr. Nguyen shook her head. “Some people will say they can, but frankly, I think if you want to know that it’s better to wait until the anatomy scan at twenty weeks – it’s very easy to get wrong this early, the baby has only really started to develop genitalia.”

“Do you want to know?” Matt asked, and she looked at him, surprised he didn’t want to know.

“Don’t you?”

“I kind of like the idea of a surprise.” Matt shrugged. “Also, if we tell everyone we’re having a girl, they’ll buy us a hundred pink things. Which would then be weird to hand down if we have a boy next.”  
“Already on to another baby? Let me finish being pregnant with this one, Matt!” Sylvie teased him lightly.

“And what if she hates pink? Besides, isn’t it kind of sexist, all the blue and pink? Can’t we just do neutrals or something? If we say we don’t know – and Sylvie, you’re a worse liar than I am, if we find out, we’ll give it away – people will have to get us neutral things. Right?”  
“He’s so logical about things.” Sylvie said to Dr. Nguyen. “We’ll let you know in eight weeks which one of us wins this debate – to know or not to know, that is the question.”

“I have an easier one. Do you want to hear your baby’s heartbeat?”

She called her parents pretty regularly. Because of her work schedule, she didn’t have a set routine like every Sunday, but at least once a week she called her parents to check on just how they were doing and any news from Fowlerton that Mom wanted to share or felt she needed to know. It also reassured her parents that yes, even after several years in Chicago, she had managed to not get killed, maimed, or otherwise seriously injured in the big bad city. She always let Mom lead off with any family news, or news from Fowlerton (usually church auxiliary related). Mom’s big excitement thus far this week was that Allison and Leo had finally set a date: they’d been engaged for over a year, after all. Sylvie was happy for them, but winced a little at the date. Late June was going to be interesting.   
“Hold on, let me tell Matt to put that on the calendar right now, so he can get furlough for sure.” Sylvie told her mom, and since Matt was sitting right next to her on the sofa, he already had his phone out to put a note in it.

“What am I putting in my calendar?” Matt asked.

“Leo and Allison’s wedding – June 26 in Carmel at the Carmel United Methodist Church.”  
“June 26?” Matt raised his eyebrows in the obvious question.   
“It’ll be fine.” Sylvie reassured him, because she was pretty sure it would be. They’d have to be careful, and limit close crowds around the baby, but it could be done safely. Babies weren’t made out of fine china, and the end of June wouldn’t be flu season.

“If you need to speak to Matt, sweetie, I can let you go-“  
“No, Mom.” Sylvie hurried to reassure her. Then she thought of something. “Actually, Mom, can you get Dad and switch to Facetime? I’ll call you back on Facetime in just a couple minutes, okay?”  
“Okay.” Mom sounded surprised and a little suspicious. Oh well, it wasn’t like any sort of surprise had to last much longer anyway. As promised, she called back on the video call just two minutes later. She wished she could tell them in person, but they had no upcoming plans to go to Fowlerton or for her parents to come up to Chicago. She wanted her parents to be the first people, besides Matt of course, to know. Pretty soon, they’d have to tell everyone (not least, she was starting to realize her stomach was truly growing).

“Hi, Dad.” Sylvie sort of waved at him, since she’d already talked to Mom but hadn’t yet spoken to him. She knew she needed to just get right to the big news. Mom already looked suspicious that Matt was next to her on the sofa – Matt might chime in on his way passed with a ‘hello’ or something during her calls home, but he didn’t actually join in like this.

“So, it sounds like June is going to be a pretty busy month for you guys. Leo’s getting married at the end of the month, but at the start of it, you’re getting promoted to grandparents.”

“Grandparents?” Dad asked, as if he didn’t understand the word at first. Mom had understood, that was clear from her expression, she just looked stunned. Matt, whose arm was around her shoulders, pulled her a little more tightly against him, as if he thought this was disapproval or something. Dad shook his head, then loudly asked, “I’m gonna be a grandpa? I’m gonna be a grandpa?”

“Baby Casey is due June 1.” Sylvie confirmed, breaking her eyes away from the screen to glance up at Matt. His opposite hand reached across to rest on her stomach, and he kissed her softly before she turned back to the screen. Dad stood up suddenly, and half-laughing, shouted at probably full volume, arms raised above his head as if in victory,

“I’m gonna be a grandpa!”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Mom looked a little stunned still, but also like she might cry. “I’m just…you only just got married two months ago. It’s…oh, Sylvie.”  
“This is fantastic!” Dad was clearly very excited, the most excited in fact that Sylvie had ever seen him. If it was possible to make a man in his mid-sixties look like a kid again, this had done it. He was walking in kind of circles, burning off sudden energy.

“This is, sweetheart, oh, this is such a blessing.” Mom managed the words, but she was also crying now. Matt let out a deep breath, and Sylvie realized he honestly hadn’t known if his in-laws would be happy at the news. He’d tensed, but she’d thought it was just nerves. Sylvie had known, of course, that her parents would be happy, though Dad’s exact reaction was a little more giddy-schoolboy than she’d have guessed.

“Wait, are we telling people?” Dad stopped to ask. “Are we allowed to tell people or is it still too early or something? Have you told anyone?”  
“We’re going to call Leo and Allison ourselves, but other than that, tell whoever you want.” Sylvie allowed, knowing Matt didn’t care. Once they’d cleared this last hurdle, got past twelve weeks, as her risk of losing the baby lowered, he was just as ready to shout to the world that he was going to be a daddy as Grandpa Brett was clearly ready to talk about his promotion.

“Don’t send him any ultrasounds, he’ll have it up on a billboard along the highway.” Mom chuckled even as she was still crying. “Oh, Sylvie, this is such fantastic news. It’s sooner than I…I thought you might wait a while. Your marriage is so new, but oh, what a blessing.”  
“We wanted to start a family, Mom. We weren’t really trying yet, we’d just stopped…interfering.” Sylvie wasn’t lying. While they’d agreed they wanted to start a family soon after their wedding, they hadn’t really officially started trying, she just apparently got pregnant super quickly. Maybe it was just that Matt was so sexy she must ovulate like a slot machine. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that they had a healthy little one on the way. And now she got to share that news with her family and her friends.


	3. Birthdays and Birth Families

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been such a stressful couple of days...I'm happy to see the weekend coming up! I'm hoping to get quite a bit more of this story written over the next couple days. Anyway, for those now keeping count, we're in mid-November 2020 (in the story, we haven't been in psuedo-lockdown quite that long!)

They had told their families, but were waiting a little longer to tell everyone at work. That was more Sylvie’s choice than Matt’s, because she was worried that they’d all treat her differently. Matt already was. He was trying, she could see that, but his protective streak was already pretty wide before she got pregnant. She wasn’t going to fight with him about it. He had enough family drama on his plate. Christie and Violet had both been ecstatic at the news, though Violet had teased that she was way too old to enjoy having a cousin now – she’d be more babysitter than anything else. She had, though, genuinely volunteered to babysit. Nancy, maybe unsurprisingly, was the one who didn’t seem happy for some reason. They’d told her the same way they had Mom and Dad, but instead of excitement and tears, there had just been tears. Matt had tried to shrug it off, but Sylvie knew it hurt him that his mother seemed unhappy that he was going to have a family. Sylvie, having mostly sat back and watched the interaction over Skype, had begun to come to the conclusion that Nancy Casey had never really adjusted to the fact that the boy she’d known was gone now: she’d left behind a barely-sixteen-year-old kid, and for all that Matt had dutifully visited at least once a month the entire fifteen years she was imprisoned, the grown man she had before her was almost unrecognizable to her. She’d missed so much of what made Matt a man instead of a boy. Sylvie also knew Matt didn’t realize that. He never said what he felt about his relationship with his mother, but Sylvie knew that it hurt him and confused him. She suspected he’d always imagined being close to his mom again when she got out, but they’d both changed so much it just wasn’t working. Plus, Matt’s fierce independence (the result, Sylvie thought, of having to be completely emotionally independent from 16) clashed with Nancy’s tendency to try to dominate her son (at least, when she wasn’t busily having her new life). So, with all that drama, she was a little reluctant to add more, but she also couldn’t _not_ tell him about the news she gotten, either. Cutting him out would just make him feel worse when he found out about it later. She was distracted from her thoughts when she heard the back door open; Matt was home. She heard his work boots clunk as he stepped out of them near the door, then she knew he was headed her way.

“How’re my girls?” Matt asked as he dropped onto the sofa next to her, as always one hand going to her stomach automatically and immediately, and he kissed her lips gently.

“Oh my God, Matt, what did you do today?” She couldn’t help asking, her nose wrinkling.

“Sorry, I was helping out with tarring a roof – not my usual gig, but sometimes, you do what you gotta to get the job done. Burnt tar, not my best smell.”  
“Go, take a shower. Please.” The smell was seriously going to make her hurl.

“What’s that?” He asked, indicating the letter in her hand.   
“Oh. It’s a certified letter from an adoption advocacy firm.”  
“I, uh,” Matt trailed off, clearly confused. “Why do you have a letter about adoption?”  
“It’s about my adoption, Matt.” Sylvie reassured him. She moved to kiss him, but no, that smell, nope. It might not really be that bad, but she was really sensitive to certain smells right now.

“Is something wrong?”  
“My birth mother wants to get in contact with me.”  
“Now? It’s been three decades.”  
“I guess yeah now.” Sylvie shrugged. “I don’t, I don’t think I want to know. I used to have lots of questions. I’ll think about it. We can talk about it. But Matt, seriously, you need to go shower. Scrub like three times. You smell and it’s going to make me puke.”  
“Sorry.” He stood up, moving towards the stairs to head up to the master. He paused at the base of the stairs, though. “I’ll use the guest bath, if you want to use the master to get ready for dinner.”  
“What time is our reservation again?”  
“7 o’clock.” Matt replied. It was already nearly five.

“I better do just that then. We’ll want to leave early and I have some…special things to get ready for the birthday boy.” She got up, moving towards the stairs. Matt hadn’t moved, just watching her walk towards him. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her firmly.

“The birthday boy wouldn’t mind a little preview.” He grinned at her.

“The birthday boy _smells_. God, it’s awful.”

“Alright, I’m going.”  
“No previews! I want it to be a surprise for after dinner!” Sylvie called up the stairs after him, letting him get a head start because he really did smell that badly.

Their reservations were for Shaw’s, which had been Sylvie’s idea. Matt adored crab, and fish was good for pregnant women to eat (obviously she had to avoid certain kinds of seafood). She had managed to not wince at the price of Matt’s meal, but then, it was his birthday and he almost never bought himself anything. If once a year he decided not to be his usual frugal self and indulge his tastes, so be it. He could eat all the ‘fresh from Alaska’ King Crab legs he wanted. It made him happy and she loved seeing him happy. It also happened to make her horny as hell because he managed to make eating look really damn sexy. They split a dessert, then walked the five or so minutes up State Street to the Berkshire Room for a “drink” – Matt would have a drink, obviously she wouldn’t. He’d protested at first, when she’d broached the idea at Shaw’s, but she didn’t really think he needed to give up something he liked in solidarity with her – at least, not on his birthday. Plus, she liked cuddling up to him in a bar, there was something sort of free in a bar that wasn’t in a restaurant: she could sit this close to him and no one thought it was strange. The Berkshire Room had these little corner sofa things, hard for two people to actually sit in unless they wanted to really share leg space, but she kinda loved it. She was sat with her legs across Matt’s thighs, and curled into his side. The environment and the company was more than enough compensation for not being able to drink.

“I think Severide wants me to stop by Molly’s.” Matt said, after glancing at his phone.

“Why?” She couldn’t help it, she cuddled closer and dropped her head to his shoulder, though the angle of her neck probably shouldn’t be comfortable. She hadn’t meant to, but she got distracted by the smell of his aftershave (she swore it got ten times sexier when she got pregnant, her nose had gone crazy and his aftershave was now like the most potent aphrodisiac ever). She nuzzled at his neck, then started laying little kisses along his neck, sliding one of her hands behind him to slip up the back of his shirt to glide across the smooth expanse of his lower back.

“I think he wants to buy me a drink for my birthday. I don’t want a big deal, we have shift tomorrow.”  
“That’s too bad.” Sylvie said softly, starting to let her teeth in on the action against his neck, and up along his jawline. He had a fantastic jawline. “I was going to make a big deal.”  
“Sylvie. You need to rest. You’re,” Matt broke off suddenly, tilting his head to give her more access as she hit a nicely sensitive spot. Matt started again, “You’re supposed to get more sleep, you’re pregnant. And I know you don’t get enough rest on shift.”

“I bet I can come up with sufficient temptation for a late night.” She whispered into his ear, her hand on his back slipping lower to slide beneath his belt and run across the top of his very tempting ass. Moving as close as she could, she lowered her voice a little farther to make sure it didn’t carry any farther than his ear, “I want you to fuck me, Matt. I want to feel your big cock up inside of me, in the places that make me scream your name. I want to ride you until we’re both too damn saddle-sore to move.”  
“Sylvie.” He groaned, then pulled her into a kiss that wasn’t exactly appropriate for a relatively public place. Finally, he pulled away, tossed back what was left of his drink, and stood them both up. “We’re leaving. Let’s go, babe.”

Their Uber driver thankfully didn’t seem too off-put by the fact that she was nearly in Matt’s lap throughout the trip back home. There was just something about his neck tonight, the way it smelled so perfectly strongly of that mix of him and his aftershave, it even tasted good, and she couldn’t keep her lips and tongue off it. Matt wasn’t exactly complaining, though he did grab her wrist when it wandered to – okay, dove intentionally into – the fly of his pants. She could feel he was getting hard and she wanted him so badly. Luckily, it wasn’t a particularly long drive back to Bucktown from River North, she knew it was just about ten minutes, and she was dead sober of course, but it felt longer because she was more than ready to be with him. She moved away from his neck, kissing him firmly, grateful that his mouth gave way immediately and she could twine her tongue around his, drawing him into her mouth. She’d found that he liked when she sucked on his tongue, just a hint of it really, and he pulled her to him as much as he could, given she was wearing her seatbelt and so was he.

“I hope this is home.” Their driver announced, and she realized the car had stopped in front of their house. She laughed lightly.

“Yes, it is, thank you! Come on, birthday boy, let’s go upstairs.” She unbuckled her belt, and was sliding after Matt towards the door he’d managed to almost stumble out of, just as Matt practically lifted her out of the car. She felt another wave of lust for him hit her. There was just something about the way he could (and did) easily lift and carry and okay, basically manhandle her. She loved it. She didn’t care if it was sexist or whatever, she loved a man who could overpower her. The physicality of him turned her on like no one’s business. That he could just carry her so easily through the gate and up the stairs, if she hadn’t been soaking wet for him before, she would’ve been now. She found her back pressed to their front door, as Matt kissed her hard and deep, stealing her breath in the most amazing way, and she couldn’t help writhing against him a bit, ready for the delicious perfect friction of their two bodies together.

“If this was our back door, not our front door, I’d be incredibly tempted to just take you right here, you keep doing that.” Matt muttered, pulling away from the kiss at last. She laughed a little, but also, yeah, that sounded hot as hell.

“You got your keys?” She asked, and Matt took the hint, unlocking the door while keeping her pinned between him and the door. Then they were inside and she just managed to think to lock the door while he pinned her once again to it, though this time of course on the interior. Why had she worn trousers instead of a dress? It was so much easier in a dress, she could just have him while still mostly clothed, just to take the edge off the way her body was screaming for him.

“Upstairs.” She managed to get one word out around his kisses. He turned, and she expected him to put her down so they could go upstairs. He didn’t, he kissed her again and kept one hand firmly on her ass while the other wrapped around her back to hold her against him, his fingers caressing and kneading the side of her breast, as he carried her up the stairs.

“Matt, you’ll hurt yourself.” She just managed to sneak the words out, practically into his mouth.

“If I can’t carry _you_ up one flight of stairs…” Matt chuckled, shaking his head a little before kissing her again. They were upstairs before their lips parted again, and before she knew it she was very happily deposited on their bed, Matt over her and between her legs. While their hands swiftly moved over buttons and zippers and they managed to pull shirts off and trousers, she was so intent on getting at his bare skin that she forgot that she’d worn a little something special tonight. Not all guys cared about lingerie, so she was told, and she knew Matt didn’t need it (he certainly wasn’t reluctant to sleep with her even if she was in the most simple cotton underwear), she also knew that Matt enjoyed it. For once, she hadn’t gone with red, not wanting to wear it out (if you could wear out his favorite color anyway, she just didn’t want to dilute the effect of a little something in red by _always_ going to it) but opted for an emerald green satin number that had these cutouts in both the bra and underwear that left tempting bits of skin peeking out.

“That…” Matt groaned, his hands roaming over her, tracing all the spots where the satin underwear met her skin. She knew he loved the feel of satin.

“You never want anything for yourself, so,” She kissed him, then continued, “I bought something for me, that you could share – so to speak.”  
“I can’t decide if I want to take it off.” Matt admitted. “I love your tits, but the feel of that satin…and your ass, too and I can’t…” He kissed her again, hard and fast, and it was pretty typical of him when he ran out of words. In bed, she found it charming and attractive, his tendency to just not bother with words anymore.

“Split the difference.” Sylvie concluded, once he had left her mouth again and was now working his way down her neck. “I have to take the underwear off for you to fuck me – you’re too big to just move it aside, we’ve talked about that – but I can leave the bra on.”  
“Mmm.” Matt apparently agreed to that plan, his fingers slipping under the waist of her underwear and already starting to push it down. His mouth trailed down her body as he removed her underwear, and then his mouth was on her. She used to be worried about what he’d think about the taste, the smell, her reactions, she’d even worried about what a guy would think if she was too wet down there or something, but one thing she’d learned about Matt: he loved to do this and there was no such thing as ‘too wet’ for him, which was good because she was soaking already. She came in what felt like 10 seconds.

“I used to worry you’d think I was a total nymphomaniac or something for coming that fast.” Sylvie admitted with a smile as he slid back up her body, his fingers slowly working their way towards her pussy. She knew what was coming next, in some ways he was predictable, but she wasn’t going to complain because predictable perfection was still perfect. His fingers slipped inside her, stretching her before he was going to fuck her.

“You say that like I’d think it was a bad thing.” Matt replied.

“I didn’t want you to think…I don’t know.”  
“Women confuse me.” Matt shook his head, but he was smiling. “Why would you being a complete glutton for sex with me be a bad thing? I love it. The more I can make you come the better I like it. You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you lose it because of what I do for you, baby.”  
“I have some idea.” She grinned, reaching down to wrap her hand around his rampant erection.

“That you trust me enough to let go, come apart, let me do that for you; _that_ is the hottest, sexiest, part of all of it.” Matt smiled softly.

“Fuck me, Matt. Make me come apart on your cock. Leave me a complete mess, the way only you can do.” He didn’t need telling twice.

She knew she should be sleeping, not sitting up in bed thinking. They had shift tomorrow. For all Matt’s protective nature, he couldn’t exactly arrange for her to have plenty of time to rest on shift. He could ask Chief to take them out of service it was really necessary, if he thought they were that tired or something, but she didn’t think he’d ever done that. CFD resources were usually scarce, so taking any vehicle out of service was for very special circumstances – usually an unpleasant and anxious period in a waiting room. She was tired, physically, both from the fact that pregnancy was apparently exhausting but also from the fact that she and Matt had been rather energetic tonight.

“Babe, we have to be up in like four hours.” Matt’s sleepy voice automatically made her smile.

“Did I wake you?” She couldn’t help asking, worrying about him. Her job was difficult of course and tiring, but not like his.

“You’re tense.” Matt turned over, his head ending up in her lap. He was the biggest cuddler of any man she’d ever known. Sometimes, she felt her heart break just a little at the realization that Matt had never been held enough when he was younger. He was a hugger who didn’t expect to be hugged, it was strange and sad. Matt was so touch-oriented, you could tell almost anything about him just based on how he touched you or let you touch him. His eyes met hers, though, and he smiled softly. “I don’t like a tense wife in my bed. Makes me feel like I didn’t relax her enough earlier.”  
“If you ‘relaxed’ me any harder I’d be walking bow-legged tomorrow.” Sylvie replied, running her fingers softly through his hair. He had amazingly soft, fluffy hair. She hoped their child got his hair. Blonde either way, and blue-eyed, but his hair was better than hers. It wasn’t fair either because he kept it like an inch long, when he clearly had the sort of hair that could be beautiful and long and soft. Okay, the CFD regulations wouldn’t allow that, but she could imagine it.

“What’re you thinking about?”  
“You have Barbie-doll hair. It’s like perfect.”  
“Uhm, thank you? I’m…not sure if that’s a compliment for a guy. I also don’t think it’s what has you awake at 3 am.”  
“I’m gonna have a baby.”  
“I know that.” Matt grinned, and kissed her stomach. She was starting to show, not a lot, but they were just about going to have to tell everyone at work soon.

“I’m scared.”  
“Of what?”  
“Silly stuff. Big stuff. Just…Matt, if I’m feeling like this, and I have a beautiful home, a good job, and the most perfect husband who is going to be the greatest daddy in the world,”  
“I think you’re over-selling me just a bit.”  
“Shut up, I’m not. How do you think my birth mother felt? My parents said she was sixteen when I was born, just a kid having a baby, single and maybe without any support and she must’ve been so scared.”  
“That’s probably why she made the very loving – and smart – decision to give you up for adoption, Sylvie.”  
“I know. Of course I understand that. I don’t have any hard feelings about it, I had the most amazing childhood with wonderful loving parents. You couldn’t shop in a catalog for better parents than I have.” Sylvie smiled down at him.

“So, what has you awake at this hour then?”  
“She wants contact. Maybe even to meet me.” Sylvie paused, then asked, “do you think I should agree to it?”  
“Do you want to meet her?”  
“Would you be okay if I did?”  
“It’s not my decision, babe. It’s yours. I’ll support you, whichever decision you make.” He paused, and she could tell he had something else to say. She’d give him a minute, then prompt him if needed. He was seriously adorable right now anyway, still half-asleep and with messy hair and a soft smile, the sort of pleased smile he’d had as his usual expression since the pregnancy had been confirmed. If there was such a thing as resting bitch face, Matt currently had resting happy face. He finally continued, “Sylvie, if you go to meet her, I want to come with you. I’m not trying to interfere or run things or control you-“  
“Matt.” She put two fingers over his mouth. She really needed to get him into therapy. They’d been married two months and she was already getting tired of carrying all the baggage of his relationship with Gabby. “Of course I want you to come. I was going to ask. I think I might need a hand to hold.”  
“Anything you need. Anything either of you need.” Matt kissed her stomach again. “You know that, right? I’d do _anything_ for you. Say the word.”

“I know it, Matt.” She kissed him, leaning down carefully. She knew he meant it, and sometimes it scared her. Literally anything she asked of him, he’d do. It was sort of sweet, but there was something desperate about it that also scared her a little – for him, not for her. Still, that was an issue for another time. “I’ll contact the adoption advocacy person tomorrow.”


	4. Ah, You Love It

Sylvie couldn’t help it. They had just rolled back in from a call, getting back to the house just moments before Truck 81 backed into its place next to 61. Everyone was used to her waiting for Matt in moments like these, so no one batted an eye at her hanging around as the crew piled out of 81. It had been about 90 minutes since she’d seen Matt. Today, that felt like too long. Gallo was the last out of the back, following Mouch out with an almost bounce, he seriously had too much energy. It was still early in shift, not yet lunch even.

“He’s fine – Mouch says Captain’s like Teflon, nothing sticks.” Gallo piped up cheerfully. Sylvie felt her eyebrows go up, she hadn’t heard anything that would need a reassurance Matt was fine. Mouch shot the kid a dirty look as they stepped out of their gear.

“I didn’t say that.” Mouch told her.

“Well, not exactly that.” Gallo admitted easily.

“Get inside and make lunch, kid.” Mouch directed, shaking his head. Gallo did as he was told. Matt was still in the cab of 81, it looked like he was filling out something. Mouch leaned over to her slightly. “He got nicked by a car on the last call, idiot trying to swerve around clipped him with a mirror. He says he’s fine, medics cleared him.”  
“Okay.”  
“He was moving fine.”  
“I just…I need to talk to him myself.”  
“Alright, but he’s okay.” Mouch repeated, then headed inside just as Matt was sliding down out of 81.

“Hey, babe, just back yourself, huh? How was your call?” Matt smiled broadly at her.   
“Better than yours. _Clipped_ by a car mirror?”  
“I’m fine.” Matt paused, then reluctantly admitted as he hung his turnout coat on the truck, “I’m going to have a pretty nasty bruise. Other than that, I’m fine.”  
“Come here.” She grabbed his hand pulling him behind her.

“Sylvie, what-“ She pulled open the back door on the ambulance, pushing him towards the interior. Foster walked over, shooting her a look. Matt tried again. “Sylvie, it’s a bruise.”

“Uh-huh. Where? A mirror, that’s what, hip height? Right or left side?” She reached for the closure of his turnout pants, which he was still wearing.

“Cap’n, you okay?” Foster asked, interested now.

“I’ve already been cleared by Jimenez on 27.” Matt replied. “I got clipped on my side, I promise, just a bruise, Syl.”  
“Take your shirt off.” Sylvie demanded.

“I’d rather not, on the apparatus floor.” Matt shot back.   
“Fine.” Sylvie pushed him towards the interior of 61 again. “Get in. Take your shirt off.”  
“I’m just going to go get lunch. This seems like a worried wife thing.” Foster pointed towards the doors into the house, then headed that direction. Sylvie didn’t care, mostly because Matt was doing as she asked and had his suspenders down and his shirt halfway over his head. She hopped in the back behind him and shut the door, as he settled on the gurney.

“I told you, it’s just a bruise. Going to be kind of nasty, but just a bruise.” Matt told her, hands indicating the already darkening bruise on his side. She glanced at it, ran her hands over it gently, looking for any warning signs of internal bleeding, but he only winced a little at the contact. Having him half-naked and right in front of her reinvigorated something deep inside her, this hunger for him that’d she’d had since before they even got together but since she was pregnant, it was like water to a wanderer in the desert. She met his eyes, and even in the dim interior of the ambulance, she got lost in his eyes for just a moment, then she kissed him, her tongue taking advantage of his surprise to dive into his mouth. She pushed him back on the gurney to lay flat, climbing on top of him.

“Sylvie-“  
“I want you.”  
“Now? Here?” Matt asked.  
“Right here. Right now.” Sylvie insisted. Matt met her eyes again, then grinned a little wildly and pulled her down fully on top of him.

“God, I love you.” Matt practically breathed the words into her mouth as he kissed her again.

It was nearly dinner before she really had time to go hunting down Matt again. She found him in his quarters, hunched over paperwork. He’d always had a lot of paperwork, but something about the approaching holidays and the end of the year always made paperwork increase. She had some of that as PIC on 61, but Matt had three shifts worth of Truck 81 maintenance, etc., to process plus all of second shift’s personnel and supply paperwork went through him. With winter approaching rapidly, he was also the one put in charge of checking on all the generators, rolling doors, etc., before the cold set in. He must be really tired or concentrating entirely too hard for paperwork, as he didn’t even hear her arrive in his quarters. She snaked her arms around his shoulders, letting her hands run down his chest just a little. She meant to be sort of flirtatious, instead, he practically jumped out of his chair.

“Shit!” It wasn’t very loud, but she could tell she’d genuinely startled him. He sort of glared up at her, then turned his attention back to his paperwork. She kept her hands on his shoulders for a moment, then started massaging lightly. If her hands slipped down his back a little, thumbs rubbing over that little spot she knew and loved so well…who was going to judge a little backrub for her husband?

“Did you need something?” Matt asked, a touch of sharpness in his tone even as he arched into her touch. She’d never known a man with a hot spot in the middle of his shoulder blades, but it definitely worked with her husband.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re grumpy, did you know that?”  
“I’m not adorable.” Matt replied. “And I’m not grumpy either.”

She leaned down, resting her chin lightly on his shoulder. “I disagree. You are adorable. And you’re grumpy.” She kissed his neck gently. “I’m surprised, I figured after our time in the back of the ambulance, and in the turn-out gear room, you’d be pretty pleased with yourself this shift. I’m certainly pleased with you.”  
“Yeah, reminding me of that is not going to help me concentrate on this paperwork.”  
“Well, that’s okay, because it’s dinner time and judging by your mood, you need to eat.”  
“I’m not grumpy.”  
“You just about snapped at me when I came in.” Sylvie pointed out firmly. “It’s time to eat, Matt. You’re like the epitome of a Snickers commercial – you’re not you when you’re hungry.”  
“I’ll fix a plate and bring it in here, keep working.” Matt stood, and she shifted, moving her arms over his shoulders again but this time standing in front of him to lean up and kiss him softly. She meant it to be just a soft little kiss anyway, but she got distracted and the kiss deepened a bit. After a few minutes, she pulled back. She didn’t really want to. She wanted to shove him onto his bunk and have a third round for the day, but they needed to eat. Plus, she had something important to discuss with him.

“I want to tell everyone at dinner.”  
“I think we should tell Chief first.” Matt replied. “I’m fine with telling everyone today, but I think we owe it to him to tell him first, privately. Maybe Kelly and Stella, too. Chief for professional reasons, even if not personal ones.”  
“He is going to have to find cover for me eventually.” Sylvie admitted. She cut off any ideas he might have. “Not for several months – I am perfectly fit to work right now, mister, don’t even try arguing with me.”  
“Trust me, I know better than to argue with a pregnant woman.” Matt chuckled, kissing her swiftly. “Now, I was promised dinner. So, dinner, then we tell Chief? Hopefully without being interrupted by the bells.”  
“No matter what, we tell everyone together. You and me together.” Sylvie was sort of asking, sort of telling, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Matt grinned, and kissed her, and this time, her hands wandered south of his waist a little. He had a fantastic ass, and she liked grabbing it.

“Together.” Matt agreed, pulling back. “But you need to keep your hands off, Mrs. Casey – I’m never going to get anything done if you keep distracting me.”

“Ah, you love it.” She grinned cheekily at him, but grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the common room for dinner rather than going with that fantasy at the back of her mind still of pushing him to the bed and just riding the fuck out of him. Literally.

After dinner, she and Matt headed for Chief’s office. He was on the phone, and his door was shut, but he waved to let them know he’d seen their arrival. Sylvie resisted the urge to curl into Matt’s arms. She was tired and comfortably full and she wouldn’t mind a cuddle with her husband. Plus, she’d realized something over dinner.

“I have to call Berrigan, who’ll have to let Hatcher know.” She told Matt, referring to her area ambulance commander and the chief of paramedics. “I’m obviously allowed to keep working, but they have to know about any medical condition that might create extra concerns about my safety or ability to do certain tasks.”  
“I know you want to keep working, and I support that,” Matt added quickly, probably seeing the fire in her eyes at the thought he was about to ask her not to, “but can you do me a couple favors?”  
“Depends on the favors.”  
“Ask for help lifting when you need it – if you need an assist on a call that doesn’t have Fire on site, you know you can call for it. Please do so. I know you and Foster are competent and even pretty bad-ass, but you’re not as strong as my guys. Let us help, please.”  
“I can do that.” She agreed easily. That wasn’t bad, and she had a feeling the guys (on every company) would probably be pretty anxious to help out anyway. Firefighters took good care of their paramedics usually, and the guys at 51 were going to be especially protective of her given they loved her _and_ they loved her husband.

“Be extra careful around any possible hazmat. Even the tiniest possibility. Anything you take in, the baby takes in, and she is so tiny and I’m…freaking out over everything as it is. Just promise me.” He looked a little embarrassed at asking, or maybe just admitting to how much he was worrying over everything. Not that he’d been doing a great job of hiding it.

“I can do that, too. Matt, I don’t want to risk anything either, you know that.”  
“I know, I just…please, just think three times before you rush into something. Don’t push harder just to prove a point. Please?”  
“I won’t. I promise.” She bit back a comment about how she wasn’t Gabby Dawson and didn’t appreciate him regularly running them together. Also, he needed to take his own advice about not rushing into things. Saying that right now would not be helpful, though.

“Chief’s ready for us.” Matt announced, then ushered her into Chief’s office.

Chief had been rather ecstatic at the news. Sylvie hadn’t expected him to disapprove or anything, but he was _really_ excited for them. He’d been about ready to go out and tell the rest of the house himself he was so excited, but he’d agreed to give them time to pull Kelly and Stella aside first, then in a little while they’d tell everyone else. He’d hugged her, three times, over the course of the meeting, then checked that it was okay for him to let Donna know. They’d said it was fine, but to wait until they’d told the house because if Donna told Cindy then Cindy told Herrmann before they could announce it, that would be awkward. Chief had agreed, but also urged them to hurry. God, you’d think they’d asked Terrence to keep something quiet, not Terrence’s father.

“Severide, Kidd, can I see you guys in my quarters for a minute?” Matt called into the common room as they passed by back towards the bunk area. Sylvie knew that their best friends would follow and that the request was routine enough that no one would get very suspicious. Sylvie settled onto Matt’s bunk, but Matt stood, leaning back against the windows to the outside, behind the bunk. That left enough room for Kelly and Stella to come inside, though it was a little crowded – not a space designed for four people, really.

“Hey, Case, what’s up?”

“We, uh, wanted to talk to you guys.” Matt started, then looked at her. Sylvie smiled at him, and took over. She’d wanted to do this anyway, so she reached over to the small table beside Matt’s bunk and picked up the two small pictures of their latest ultrasound. She just handed them over, knowing she wouldn’t really need to say anything. Stella apparently was studying the image, Kelly just took a second to realize what it was, then that little-boy grin of his just about split his face.

“Seriously?”  
“Very seriously.” Matt replied, but he was grinning and laughing lightly.

“We’re going to tell everyone in a few minutes, but we wanted to tell you guys first.” Sylvie explained a little more, mostly because she really didn’t understand the weird shorthand between the guys where they said almost nothing but had whole conversations.

“A June baby?” Stella asked.

“Due date is June 1.” Sylvie confirmed.

“You two work fast.” Stella was smiling, and pulled Sylvie to her feet and into a huge hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Mini-Sylvie or Matt Junior?” Kelly asked, hugging her as soon as Stella let her go.

“We won’t know until at least the anatomy scan in about 6 more weeks.” Sylvie shot a look at Matt. “My _dear_ husband says he doesn’t want to know.”  
“You want to know?” Stella asked knowingly.

“I do.” Sylvie admitted freely. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t really care which, I just feel like we can start picking names and things more readily, and there’s no more ‘it’ – she or he, you know? But, we’re still deciding if _we_ want to know.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to win that debate.” Kelly laughed.

“You ready to be Uncle Kelly and Aunt Stella?” Sylvie couldn’t help asking. She of course knew they were. It was just fun to say it aloud. It was like making things more real.

“Do I get to take him or her to their first game at Wrigley? Uncle’s duty and all.”  
“No. No Cubs gear. White Sox only.” Matt replied, shaking his head but also grinning.

“God. Just try to make sure that ‘Bear down, Chicago Bears’ is not the first song my child learns. Please?”

“Can’t promise that.” Matt replied, exchanging a look with Kelly that she didn’t even want to ask about what it meant. Probably a ton of blue-and-orange and black-and-red baby stuff. 

Of course, Truck got called out like 30 seconds later. She knew people were getting a little suspicious something was up, just because Kelly was still grinning and kept glancing at her, smiling a bit broader, then shaking his head and going back to what he was reading. It took an hour for Truck to make it back – as the last arriving truck they’d drawn the overhaul duty, she figured. As the truck rolled back in, Chief called everyone into the briefing room. Sylvie hung back, waiting for Matt to follow his crew back into the house. He grinned, kissed her softly, and took her hand as they were the last two people to walk into the briefing room. She might’ve preferred to make the announcement in the common room, a little more relaxed maybe, but then, this way everyone was definitely in one place already.

“One quick announcement, I heard from headquarters earlier, and just a reminder that those of you with parade duty tomorrow – that is Truck 81 and Squad 3; Engine 51 and Ambulance 61, you are off parade for this year – are off-shift at 6:30 am and are expected to go directly to Harrison and State to line up in full blues. Third shift is coming in early to cover on those vehicles as the house will not be out of service. You will be paid over-time for parade duty though that ends, I am told, when you reach the end of the parade route.”  
“Hope your arms are ready, guys.” Herrmann teased lightly.

“Once the CFD unit reaches the main stage at Randolph, you are considered off-duty. If you remain in the area and in your uniform, I am instructed to remind you that any and all behavior will be considered as on-duty, though you will not be paid.”  
“What he’s saying guys,” Matt kicked in, “is if you plan to have any drinks, or pretty much have any fun, get out of uniform before you do. If you’re in your blues, conduct yourself like the brass is two feet behind you at all times, and you’re on camera.”

“Exactly.” Chief concurred. “Now, I believe I need to officially turn over the floor to Captain Casey.”

Sylvie moved with him to take Chief’s place front and center in the room. She almost laughed, because Matt was already blushing just a little. He was so stinking adorable. He had no problem addressing these people in meetings all the time, but ask him to say anything about himself and he got all shy.

“Actually, I guess it’s my announcement.” Sylvie took over immediately.   
“You’re pregnant!” Herrmann shouted, not even letting her get it out. She laughed, nodding, and glanced at Matt. It figured. All the stress and Herrmann made the announcement for them. The room exploded into applause and some whistles and she was pretty sure she was hugged at least twice by pretty much everyone. Cruz actually picked her up and spun her around. Herrmann was grinning kind of maniacally. Even Mouch was visibly happily. She’d known they’d all be excited for her, for them, but feeling the support and love was still amazing. After the initial furor died down, Herrmann piped up again, “So, when do the rest of us get to meet the little one?”  
“June 1 is the official due date.” Sylvie admitted. “I’m going to stay working on Ambo as long as I can, but probably in April or so I’m going to have to take a desk job someplace in the CFD or go on leave.”

“I see her or even hear about her lifting any patient heavier than a child into that ambulance on her own, we’re all running stair drills until someone – besides Mouch – pukes.” Matt announced, and she could tell that he wasn’t kidding. His men all knew it too. Worse, because he was captain, his dictate didn’t just cover Truck, but Engine and Squad, too. Great, so she had a full shift of babysitters now.

“You got it, Cap’n.” Herrmann assured him immediately. He was echoed by all the guys. She definitely had a shift full of babysitters.   
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, or I’d be pissed.” She leaned in to whisper in Matt’s ear.

“Ah, you love it.” He returned with a grin and a quick kiss.


	5. Meeting Julie

Pregnancy was strange. She had random and sudden changes in her tastes in regards to food, though so far no really strange cravings. Sudden cravings, yes. She didn’t know if she was supposed to be sending Matt out on food runs at 10 pm (or later) this early in the pregnancy, but she totally did so. She wanted a specific sort of popsicle, or ice cream, or chips and salsa, or pizza or whatever it was. Matt never complained, not once, but she still sometimes felt bad about it. It was early December now, and they had just under six months to go before the due date in early June. It felt like she was going to be pregnant forever, but she also knew that it would fly and they would be bringing home a beautiful baby really soon, actually.

Typically for Matt, he had thrown himself into crafting a nursery. They’d sort of only half-furnished one of the bedrooms because while it could be used as an extra guest room, they’d planned on it becoming a nursery. So the bookshelf, side table, and sleeper sofa that had been in there was moved to the family room in the basement (which had been a little under-furnished). She was still choosing the overall décor, mostly because she was kind of hoping to talk Matt into finding out the gender of the baby before they painted. He was still not really budging on that, insisting that there was no reason to find out anything more than the baby’s health. Matt was busy, though, taking advantage (as he put it) of the relative winter lull in construction work to do his own version of nesting. What that meant was he was building things if he didn’t have a renovation or something going. She was going to have to disappoint some people in regards to baby shower gifts because Matt was kind of going overboard. It was super sweet, though. He was building, from literal scratch, the bassinet, crib, rocking chair, dresser, and changing table. Sylvie hadn’t even known that he knew how to build furniture (it wasn’t exactly the same thing as framing up a room or doing drywall). It turned out, her husband was really good with his hands. And she didn’t just mean the obscene things his fingers did to her during sex (though yes, there was definitely that, and she refused to be ashamed of appreciating her husband’s sexual, uh, handiness).

Matt was being a little secretive about what he was building, but not that he was building it. Because he didn’t have a workshop space, he was borrowing space (and apparently some tools and equipment) from a guy he knew who built furniture for a living. He’d used Brandon’s space to build their dining table and chairs. Actually, she should’ve known he could build furniture since he’d made that table, she just hadn’t really gone from ‘able to build a table’ to ‘able to build a crib’ for some reason. She sort of loved how much he was doing already for the baby. Plus, and this was definitely a plus, Mom and Dad were really impressed that Matt was literally building a place for the baby. It was like next-level nesting, only you know, months before any of the stuff would need to be used. Of course, as Matt pointed out, it was going to take some time to build it all around his work schedule.

So, his schedule would probably be better if she could keep her hands off him, she knew that. But she couldn’t. He was a little behind on paperwork constantly because she was constantly pulling him into some cubby or other. They didn’t (necessarily) have sex, but she felt a strong need just for physical contact often. So they made out at work a lot. It was unprofessional, sure, but so far no one had called them out on their shared disappearing acts. She suspected as long as no one actually had to see anything, everyone was content to just act like it wasn’t happening. After all, no one really wanted to think about the people they knew having sex. She loved Kelly and Stella, but knowing intellectually that they had sex was a little different than like thinking about where and when they had sex or something. Speaking of sex, she thought, coming into the locker room just to see Matt with his back to her, putting his toolbox back in his locker. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed a soft kiss against his neck, right over his spine. She couldn’t help catching sight of the scar – still visible, despite the years between – that was the reminder of his epidural hematoma before she’d even known him. It scared her, the idea that she might not have ever even known him, but also, just the idea of a world without Matt Casey in it; that seemed so wrong to her. She kissed right over the scar, even though it was partly buried in his hairline.

“I hope that’s my wife.” Matt said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Someone else greets you this way?” She asked.

“Well, it’s not a greeting when you just saw me thirty minutes ago before I went out to check the generators – not to mention what you woke me up early to do before we came to shift.”  
“Are you complaining about good morning sex?” Sylvie asked, whispering into his ear as her hands left his waist to rest on either hip – fingers coming fantastically close to his crotch.

“Fuck, Syl.” Matt cursed very softly, then turned around in her arms, which she didn’t mind at all because now her hands were on his ass, which was a favorite location. He had a great ass. She was pretty sure he might have a better butt than she did. She leaned up to kiss along his jaw, and down his neck, her right hand slipping around from his ass to the bulge in the front of his pants.

“I’ve missed you since this morning.” Sylvie admitted, because it was completely true. He’d been out on calls or she had, only a couple of them shared. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”  
“We shouldn’t.” Matt tried, but it was kind of pointless because the next instant he kissed her, and she opened her mouth for him, letting his tongue tangle with hers as he remapped her mouth – at this point, it was surely not exploring because he knew every inch of her very, very, intimately. It was easy to forget where they were, as she pinned him against the next locker, trying to press her body as close to his as she could, her hand still caressing over his growing erection. His hands weren’t exactly idle, one on her ass too and one at her breast, kneading with just the right amount of strength, his thumb brushing over her nipple which with her boobs changing so much hardly needed much stimulation to rise to full attention – her boobs were so sensitive now. Pulling away from his mouth, she laved and kissed down his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt aside to get at the point she wanted, that spot that when she bit down just made him do, yeah, that exact thing, where he went sort of stiff and limp at once, arching into her attentions. Unfortunately, he also threw his head back just a bit and it hit the locker enough to create a distinctly hollow metal sound that jarred them both into remembering they were in the locker room.

“I really gotta get to those run sheets-“ Matt tried to interrupt them.  
“Later.”  
“The bells could go-“  
“We’ll be quick.” Sylvie replied, whispering into his ear and nibbling on the lobe just the slightest amount. She untucked his shirt, running her fingers up over his lower abs, then back down over the now much larger bulge in the front of his pants. “I’m so ready for you, Matt. Please, I need you so bad.”  
“Fuck.” Matt met her gaze for just a second, then grabbed her hand and practically dragged her into the shower area. Once they were in that relatively private (ish) area of the house, he picked her up, kissing her deeply as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He carried her into one of the shower stalls, pulling the curtain closed behind them.

Just before dinner was due to be called, as she was finishing up with reviewing the post-run sheets for 61 so far for the shift, Matt called out to her. That was hardly unusual, he’d been doing similar paperwork for 81 and he’d want to go into dinner together. Even if he was just heading into the house, he’d let her know but this sounded like he was actually calling for her presence. She was done anyway.

“Just a sec, Matt.” She called back, putting the paperwork back as it was supposed to be and everything back in its place in the rig. The first thing you learned in a firehouse was nothing in the rigs got left wherever you’d last had it, everything was put away right away because you needed to know precisely where everything was and had to be able to go in an instant, not worry about clearing things off or putting things up. She shut the door to 61, walking around the back and seeing him waiting for her, visible in the gap between Truck and Engine, but he was on the other side of the vehicles. There was something odd to his body language, and he was mostly looking off towards the south doors, not her, which was definitely weird.

“Hey, dinner ready?” She asked, walking towards him. He looked back at her, smiling gently in a way that told her he was concerned about something. There was nothing to be concerned about, was there?

“You have a visitor, Sylvie.” He nodded in the direction of a middle-aged, blonde, woman with a baby in her arms, probably about 6 months or so old. She walked towards the woman, not recognizing her at all, so if she was from a call it was some time back. Matt stayed with her, a few paces behind but never far off. He was protective naturally, and her pregnancy had seemed to ramp that up, rather a lot. Sometimes it was a little stifling, but right now it was pretty comforting.

“You look just like the pictures I found online. I knew you were beautiful, smart, and successful. Oh, god, I’m sorry. I’m Julie. You called and we talked about meeting, I just…I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t have your address, but I knew you worked here at this firehouse. So, here I am.”  
“Yes, I’m, I mean, you know I’m Sylvie.” She wasn’t at all sure what to do with this. She’d agreed to a meet, but had thought she might have some time to prepare for it. To think about what questions she wanted to ask. To think about where this would even go from here.

“I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I wanted to come to you.” Julie paused. “My husband is also struggling a bit, just, he didn’t know about you until a few months ago when I contacted the agency and he’s still adjusting to you being real. So rather than have you drive out to Rockford, I came to Chicago.”

“That’s, fine, I just thought we’d arrange something and, oh, gosh,” Sylvie realized as she felt Matt’s warmth behind her, he must’ve moved to be literally right behind her, “Julie, this is Matt Casey. My, well, my husband.”  
“Husband? I didn’t know you were married. It wasn’t…well, I guess you really can’t learn everything by googling someone. It’s nice to meet you, both of you.”  
“We’ve been married about three months.” Sylvie told her, not sure why, just it was something to say. “You and Scott, you’re…uhm, clearly you have a family.”  
“Oh, this is our first. Only.” Julie shook her head. “I was sixteen when I had you. Then, I just…I didn’t think when Scott and I got married several years ago, that I’d have another baby at my age. Completely unexpected, I thought I was…I couldn’t have another child, but here she is. This is Amelia.”

“She’s beautiful. I knew you were young. My parents told me. The adoption agency gave them your information. It was anonymous, I mean, no name, just your age, basic medical history, race, that stuff.”  
“You must have questions. And I admit, it took being pregnant again, having a baby again, to push me into contacting you. I don’t want to intrude into your life. I don’t want to be your mom suddenly. I just want to know you.” Julie paused. “I’d like to meet for a coffee, or lunch, something kind of easy so we can talk. Get to know each other a little.”  
“I’m off tomorrow.” Sylvie nodded, knowing she’d wanted to have this chance to know her birth mother. Maybe even find out a little about her birth father. Just to know. She couldn’t help but think, too, this was a tiny chance to know more about the genetics their baby was going to have – Mom and Dad were the baby’s grandparents, of course, but their medical history and things, those weren’t really shared. “Lunch? There’s a little café, Bertram’s, up in Bucktown.”  
“That sounds great.” Julie smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll let you get back to work.”

Matt had, a little reluctantly, let her meet with Julie for lunch on her own the next day. Sylvie had insisted he did not need to miss the time on the construction project. She _had_ texted him to let him know when she arrived, and of course, when she left 90 minutes later. He hadn’t demanded it or anything, she just knew that he worried and she appreciated it when he let her know where he was and who he was with when it was reasonable to do so, so she did the same for him. Lunch had been nice, she supposed, but it was still a little strange. She hadn’t asked too many of her deep questions, but they had gotten to know each other a little and agreed to try texting and keeping in touch sort of generally. It was so strange to think she had a half-sister. But it had been nice to hear a bit more about her biological mother. It was also nice to be able to help Julie by reassuring her that giving Sylvie up had been the best decision – Mom and Dad had been so great, truly better equipped to be parents than a scared single teenage girl. Sylvie got the impression all Julie really needed to know was that Sylvie was and had been happy. That much, she’d been able to promise her readily. She couldn’t help wondering what it meant, though, that she hadn’t told Julie she was pregnant. She just wasn’t quite ready to share that yet. But then, Julie might be the first person Sylvie had met that she was biologically related to, but she was also still substantially a stranger. At least now she had some hope of getting her questions answered eventually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I had some issues with the Julie storyline, so I'm going to be changing a little bit of it. Mostly in this chapter, I had to change the timing because its happening a year later, so Amelia has already been born in order to keep it more credible (every year a woman ages past 40 viable pregnancies...yeah, we all know that, right? So I kept Julie the same age as the show had her give birth, that's rare enough). I'll also be doing less of the "OMG SYLVIE HAS A NEW MOM" thing because as a woman in her 30s myself, I wouldn't be all that immediately receptive to just having a new parent. So it'll be a bit more distant (and imo realistic) connection here.


	6. Another Christmas in Fowlerton (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist another holiday in Fowlerton.

They had to work Christmas Day. It happened a lot when you worked in certain fields, like a ‘first responder’ or in medicine, the things that never shut down, not even when Walmart shut down (which she was pretty sure it only did for like 24 hours all year). You had to work holidays. It wasn’t a ton of fun, but everyone was in the same boat with you. It was kind of nice though, because you were still with family, just your work family. Matt still wanted to go to Fowlerton to see her parents. She didn’t know exactly why he pushed so hard for it, but she didn’t argue with him either. She was a little worried about him, though, as they were driving south through Indiana on the morning of December 23. They had to come back tomorrow, but he insisted the trip out was worth it (she’d floated the idea of furlough to Matt, and he’d given her a look, then explained that officers especially never took furlough on a major holiday apparently it was like ‘not done’ though it was technically permitted because it was seen as passing the buck to whoever got called to cover for you).

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” She asked, for possibly the fourth time. He had given in only so far as to drive her car instead of his truck, but he was definitely not letting her drive. As her belly started to actually show, he was really being kind of a stickler about her driving when it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

“I’m fine.” Matt rolled his eyes as he took his eyes off the road just long enough to let her see him rolling them at her question. “I got a few hours last night.”

“You need to sleep more.”  
“No one really sleeps on shift.” Matt shrugged lightly. “And I seem to have this perpetual backlog of paperwork because someone keeps distracting me.”  
“If you want me to stop….”  
“You know, it’s seriously only a matter of time before we get caught. It’s very unprofessional.”  
“Uh-huh. You weren’t complaining last night at 1 am when we were in the cab of 81.”  
“I thought you said that little fantasy would never happen, by the way?”  
“I changed my mind.” She paused. “Although we didn’t really have sex. It’s the hormones or something. I just had to get you off right then. I love to see you come, baby, and feeling you get hard like that in my hand, knowing I was controlling it, speeding up and slowing down and keeping you right on that edge, until you were begging for me to let you come, it was _really_ hot.”  
“Let’s not relive it too much.” Matt replied, squirming a little in his seat.

“Are you getting hard, Matt?” She asked in a light teasing tone that she knew he liked, her hand moving to rest just above his knee. “I could reenact it for you, if you-“  
“Sylvie, I’m driving.” He protested, but he didn’t sound angry or annoyed, just cautious.

“There’s a rest area coming up. Pull over. I wouldn’t mind having you in my hand again.” She really wouldn’t. She was horny all the time right now, and even just getting him off gave her such a damned high, she loved it, loved watching and feeling his cock grow in her hand and the hot velvet steel of it and the way it felt to have that sort of power and control over his pleasure, the control he gave her, it was amazing. She was getting turned on again just thinking about it, thinking about feeling the girth of him in her hand, hearing him make those quiet little noises that she knew meant he was loving what she did to him, she was getting wet already.

“It’s broad daylight.” Matt did actually sound scandalized now.

“We’ll still be in the car. Who is going to be looking in the window anyway?”  
“No.” He shook his head. “Just no.”  
“Matt.” She wheedled just a little, her hand moving up his thigh toward her goal.

“I’m not showing up late to lunch at your parents’ because we couldn’t hold off having sex. Because if you put your hand on me right now, we’re not stopping with a handjob this time, I want my turn, too.”  
“Matt, pull over at this rest stop.”  
“Sylvie, we’re not-“  
“Forget that, Matt, I have to pee. Soon.” Pregnancy. Wasn’t it grand?

Something about peeing at least put off her mood for sex, or well, rather to sort of give Matt sex. So they got to Mom’s and Dad’s pretty much at the expected time. Allison and Leo were coming in after work tonight – because of Sylvie’s (and Matt’s obviously) schedule, they’d arranged to spend Christmas Eve in Fowlerton and Christmas Day with Allison’s family. Sylvie, for good or ill, didn’t really have to worry about splitting holidays with her in-laws. Matt was still barely speaking to his mother (or rather, she was barely speaking to him) and he and Christie seemed to have never developed any tradition of spending holidays together. As they got out of the car, Matt reminded her,

“We have to stop by Caitlin’s house, wherever that is, at some point today – I promised Violet we’d drop that gift off. Apparently we’re also supposed to bring back one from Caitlin for Violet.”  
“It’s so sweet that they hit it off so well at the wedding.” Sylvie gushed a little, because she adored that the girls kept in touch with each other.

“I asked Violet if the post office stopped working. She said ‘Uncle Matt’ was cheaper.” Matt shook his head. “I used to be the cool firefighter uncle. I’m now just a bargain shipping service.”  
“That’s not true. Though she might think you were the ‘cool’ uncle again if you stopped gleefully terrifying her boyfriend every time you can.”  
“I just stopped by to say ‘hello’.”  
“You stopped by his house, in full gear, with halligan in hand, to terrify him before Homecoming. He’s seventeen. Don’t you feel bad picking on someone more than twenty years younger than you?”  
“Nope. If he’s even thinking about putting his dick in my niece, I’m going to scare him out of those thoughts. Hopefully. I’m sure gonna try.” Matt shrugged, then grinned at her as they stepped up onto the front porch. His hand went over her stomach possessively. “Wait until this little girl has a boy sniffing around. I’ll be older and even more treacherous. The only male in her life is going to be me.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“Okay, and your dad. Maybe Leo.” Matt sighed. “And Severide, probably the guys at 51, but no males her own age. Just me and Grandpa and lots of uncles.”  
“Oh, it’s cold out, get inside, come on!” Mom held open the door welcoming them into the house quickly. She hugged Sylvie first, kissing her cheek. “Oh Sylvie, you look wonderful.”  
“I feel better. Except the backaches. My back hurts so much by the end of shift.”  
“That won’t get better, you know.” Mom replied. “I’m sure Matt makes enough you can take leave.”  
“Mom.” Sylvie cut her off. It wasn’t about money. Matt did, yes, or he could, if he picked up all the overtime offered and found some more construction work, easily cover her income but that wasn’t the point. “I like working. I’m going to work as long as I can. And don’t encourage him – he already has everyone on shift and half the guys at other houses babysitting me on every call Fire also responds to.”  
“Matt, it’s wonderful to see you, too, sweetheart.” What a change had been wrought in Mom the last few months. Matt was now the greatest thing since sliced bread, well, right behind the whole ‘going to be a Grandma’ thing. Sylvie had the impression that Mom hadn’t stopped bragging on her new son-in-law the firefighter since possibly the wedding, definitely since the pregnancy announcement. She was doing all the hard work, but he was getting a lot of credit. She was happy to see it, but she was not as happy to see Matt’s face flinch just a bit at Mom’s greeting. That was weird. She didn’t think it was the hug, or the kiss to his cheek.

“Mrs. Brett-“  
“Matt Casey.” Mom shot him a look.   
“Uh, Mom.” Matt tried again, blushing just a little. “It’s good to see you, too.”  
“Sylvie, are you feeding this boy? He looks like he’s lost weight.”  
“It’s not my fault. He’s doing some fitness thing to prepare for some stupid challenge.” Sylvie literally threw up her hands on that one. She had no idea what possessed him. The Polar Bear Plunge wasn’t crazy enough, no, her husband had to trump even that. “He’s decided to open-water swim in Lake Michigan in January.”  
“It’s for charity, and it’s perfectly safe. It’s not a long-distance, I’m part of a relay. I only swim about a mile.”

“Uh-huh. If we’re going to talk about things that make no sense and someone shouldn’t do, I don’t want to hear a word about working on ambulance while pregnant, mister – I don’t care if it’s a good cause, it’s ridiculous to get in water in January in Chicago.”  
“There’s medics in case of hypothermia, it’s very safe.” Matt reassured, clearly seeing the worry on Mom’s face. “I’m a good open-water swimmer.”  
“Sylvie, you didn’t tell me he wasn’t well.” Mom glanced at her. “Matt, have you taken leave of your senses? Swimming in January? You’re not in Maui now.”  
“How did we end up picking on me?” Matt asked a little plaintively.

Sylvie tried not to be annoyed when Allison and Leo showed up. It wasn’t that they weren’t welcome, of course she loved seeing them both, it was just that right after dinner, as Sylvie was breaking out the board games, Allison had sort of cleared her throat and gotten Matt’s attention.

“Matt, we were hoping to…ask you a favor.”  
“Of course.” Matt nodded, agreeable as he usually was.

“I know it’s really inconvenient and incredibly last-minute, but we were hoping you could build a wedding arbor. I already have pictures of what I want.” Allison offered quickly.

“You’re not getting married until June.” Matt chuckled. “That’s not last-minute.”  
“Yeah, a couple friends of ours are getting married next month and loved the picture and idea, so we were kind of hoping…” Leo trailed off, leadingly. Sylvie almost threw something at him. It was Christmas, damn it. You didn’t ask someone to just build you a whole structure on Christmas with no notice. Matt still looked a little confused, so Sylvie filled him in.

“They want you to build it now. Well, probably tomorrow. On Christmas.”  
“The website said it wouldn’t take very long, but neither of us have a clue how to do it.” Allison reassured immediately. Sylvie knew Matt was going to do it, because he’s Matt and Matt was pathologically incapable of saying ‘no’ to anyone he deemed family when they asked favors of him.

“Do you have a picture with you?”  
“Yep, here.” Allison whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture and sliding it towards Matt, who took it and looked over the image for a minute.

“If you’ve got the lumber already, and if there’re some tools here I can use – mine are in Chicago, obviously, we brought Sylvie’s car. If you’d asked before we drove down, I could’ve brought my truck. I can build it, sure.”  
“Matt.” Sylvie sighed a little.

“It’s an easy build, babe.” Matt leaned over to kiss her softly. “I don’t mind. I’ll be done by lunch. Do you guys need it able to be taken apart and transported, or does someone have a truck to move it? It’s going to end up a good nine feet tall if I estimate the dimensions right.”

“Can you build it to make it easy to take apart and set up, but still sturdy?” Allison asked. Matt laughed a little, but nodded.   
“I can do that pretty easily, actually. I mean, it probably won’t hold up to a tornado or an adult climbing it, it’s not a structural piece.”

“And you can do that tomorrow morning?” Leo asked.

“If Chuck has the tools and space in the barn, yeah.”  
“Son, this is a farm. I’ve got more tools than you do. Plenty of space in the north barn, too.” Dad replied, but he was clearly teasing.

“Matt, are you sure you’re not still hungry?” Mom asked, setting an open beer at his elbow. They’d only just finished dessert from dinner. Even Matt couldn’t be hungry yet. Mom was just fussing, apparently.

“I think I ate half my weight in dinner, I’m good. Though, give me an hour or two, Sylvie said something about homemade pizza rolls?”  
“How can you even think about snacks?” Sylvie asked, utterly exasperated. “And how are you getting skinnier while eating like you do? It’s not fair. I’m getting fat, and you’re not.”  
“Well, no, it’s not fair, but you’re not fat.” Matt pulled her to him for a short kiss. “You’re growing a human, which is a lot more amazing than anything I will ever do in my life.”  
“Oooh, good answer.” Sylvie rewarded him with another quick kiss. Her parents didn’t mind affection, but she definitely didn’t want anything to get awkward.

They played a bunch of board games, which had always been a Brett family tradition for holidays and other family nights. Matt, she knew, hadn’t really grown up with ‘family nights’ and hadn’t kept up any holiday traditions either. He had never even owned a Christmas tree – Hallie had owned decorations and put one up, but he had nothing of his own to contribute to the tree Sylvie had put up in their house. Well, except for the ornament he’d sneakily bought in Maui and given to her a couple weeks ago when she brought home the tree (artificial, he insisted nothing that was going to drop leaves was coming in the house). It was their first “couple” ornament and she loved it. Even if the artificial tree bit was not her favorite, it did still look gorgeous and marriage was about compromise. Matt had so few family traditions or holiday traditions, she was so happy to see him enjoying a ‘game night’ with her family. Though, Matt ate an embarrassingly large number of Mom’s pizza rolls, but Mom loved it so at least they were bonding or whatever. It was a great night.

“We should call it an early night.” Mom declared around ten o’clock. “We’ll have to open gifts tomorrow before church, since Sylvie you said you and Matt have to leave right after the service.”  
“Even if we wait and leave after the reception starts, Mom, we’ll get back home pretty late. We have to be on shift at 8 on Christmas Day.” Sylvie explained again. “We have to leave by, what do you think Matt, 7 o’clock at the latest?”  
“On Christmas Eve, won’t be much traffic – if we want to be home by 11:30 or so, we can push it back to 8.” Matt shrugged. “I don’t mind driving in kind of late, but I don’t want you getting less than 7 hours of sleep on a night before shift.”  
“That’s fine, 8 o’clock is fine. We’re just so happy you came down for Christmas at all.” Mom assured immediately. “We can do presents before church then, and how about sort of a late big lunch instead of dinner?”  
“Sounds great, Mom.” Sylvie agreed.   
“Come on. Time for pregnant ladies who’re supposed to be getting extra rest to go to bed.” Matt stood and pulled her to her feet.   
“If you give me a backrub before bed, I will love you forever.”  
“Gee, I thought you already promised to do that, now I’m having to earn it with backrubs?”  
“Hey, I am growing a human being here and it’s your fault, so the least you can do is give me backrubs when my back hurts from carrying _your_ baby around.” Sylvie teased right back. The best thing about this visit was that she and Matt got to share her room this time. She didn’t have to try to sleep separately from him. She had a hard time sleeping without him there right now, something about the smell of him, if he wasn’t there she ended up burying her face in his pillow trying to relax enough to sleep (this usually happened in naps, Matt had only taken a couple extra shifts since they’d found out she was pregnant). Tonight, she got to cuddle with him.


	7. Another Christmas in Fowlerton (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've got the edits all done and ready on this one, too. Because they're both Christmas, I wanted to post them mostly together.

Sylvie woke up to an odd sort of reality. She was in her childhood bed, eyes slowly focusing on the same walls she’d known as a teenager, decorated exactly the same way, with early morning sunlight coming in at the same angle she had known her entire childhood, but she’d never woken up like this in this bed with another warm body. A very warm body. Matt complained that when she went to bed the temperature of her feet and hands dropped to below freezing, but Matt was like a furnace – he was hotter asleep than he was awake, actually. Better than any electric blanket, not least because of things like he was doing right now, placing light kisses along her neck as his hand gently caressed her stomach. There was nothing sexual about it, but it was affectionate and loving and gentle, and she adored it.

“Good morning.” She whispered, just not wanting to dispel the quiet intimacy of the moment. She carefully rolled over, as Matt backed away just a little to accommodate her. Once they were face to face, she kissed him softly.

“Good morning. Do we say ‘Merry Christmas’ if we’re doing the celebration today because we’re on shift tomorrow?” Matt asked with a small smile.

“Sure.”  
“Ah, then, Merry Christmas, Sylvie.” Matt kissed her more solidly, and Sylvie wove her fingers into his hair (which she still wished he kept just a touch longer, for a better grip) to keep him right where he was because she was enjoying it. She loved whatever they did together, of course, but sometimes she genuinely just wanted to kiss him, not take it any further, just kiss him for several minutes like this, lazily, with plenty of time to linger. She didn’t think there would ever be enough time to just cuddle with him. Finally, they broke apart.

“Merry Christmas, Matt.” Matt smiled at her, then sort of shimmied down the bed, scrunching himself up as his feet hit the footboard of the bed, and he lifted the hem of her pajama shirt. It was actually his own t-shirt, while she’d started to get maternity bottoms she was mostly just stealing from him when it came to t-shirts. Matt kissed her bump, too, and spoke softly,

“Merry Christmas, little one. Sort of your first one. Daddy’s kind of impatient to meet you, Mommy’s keeping you all to herself right now, but you just stay nice and cozy in there for about five more months. Daddy can work on his patience.” He kissed her stomach again, then grinned up at her.

“You don’t think it’s ridiculous to talk to her, do you?”  
“Her?”  
“What can I say? I’m hoping for a little girl as beautiful and sweet and caring as her mommy.” Matt moved back up the bed, still smiling broadly. “Do you want a girl or a boy?”  
“Honestly? I don’t know. I don’t think I care.” Sylvie had never really been able to pin down a feeling about a preferred sex for the baby. “I just want him or her to have your eyes.”  
“Sylvie, we both have blue eyes.” Matt pointed out with a chuckle.

“Yours have this bit of green to them, and I don’t know, they’re just prettier than mine.”  
“We’ll have to disagree on that one.” Matt kissed her swiftly. “I have to get up and get dressed. If I’m going to get that arbor built before lunch so we can do cookies and gingerbread and all those things.”  
“I’m helping with the prep – including the cookie baking, this morning.” Sylvie paused, then brushed her fingers along his jaw as she said, “you know, I don’t want you to feel like you have to drop your plans and be a free contractor for my family, too.”  
“It’s not a big deal. I like building things.” Matt looked at her carefully. “Did you have something else planned that I just dropped?”  
“Well, no, not specifically. Just, it’s a precedent I don’t like. Allison and Leo just sort of dropped it on you, and put you in a bad position where if you said no you look like a jerk.”  
“I don’t mind.”  
“I know you don’t mind, but maybe you should.” She had been thinking about this for a while actually. “You never mind. You don’t mind when Christie calls and needs something. You don’t mind when Cindy calls and needs something. You don’t mind when Herrmann calls and Molly’s needs something. You don’t mind when the Dawson family random cousins call you and need something.”  
“Does it bother you, that I…take those calls?”  
“Yes.” She stopped, realizing what that might sound like. “Not like I’m insecure about you and Gabby or anything – that’d be pointless, I know you love me and besides, she’s in Puerto Rico – but how do you not get tired of people taking advantage of you, Matt?”  
“I don’t work for free. They pay costs.”  
“But not your labor, not most of the time. I’m not criticizing you, Matt, I love that you’re so generous with your time and your skills.” She kissed him to reinforce that. “I’m not insecure about your relationship with Gabby, I’m not. I just think that…she let her whole family kind of treat you like you were at their disposal because you were always at hers, and I don’t want that to start with my family. I’m kind of annoyed that they presumed you’d build it at all, let alone do it on Christmas.”

“I kind of like it.” Matt shrugged a little. “I feel like I’m being useful, contributing to the family, I guess. I like doing things for people. And it’s really not a big project. I can donate a few hours of my time as part of our wedding gift to our little one’s uncle and aunt, can’t I?”

“Of course. Just, Matt, you don’t have to ‘contribute’ anything but yourself, okay, sweetheart?”  
“Don’t.” He pulled a face.

“Don’t what?”  
“Don’t call me that.” He must’ve realized his tone was a little sharp. “Please.”

“What? Sweetheart?”  
“My mother calls me that. I don’t like it. It always sounds kind of patronizing or…I don’t know. She insists on calling me sweetheart when she wants something and I know she’s doing it, but she’s my mom and I can’t…. Just, please, can you not pick up that habit?”  
“I think I got it from my mom, actually, she called you that several times yesterday, sorry.”  
“I know. Maybe it’s a mom thing. I just associate it so much with my mom that I don’t really want to hear it from the woman I don’t have any sort of _maternal_ feelings for at all. No matter how great a mommy you’re going to be.”

“Maybe I’ll just call you ‘sexy’ instead.”  
“I do like that better.” Matt smiled at her. “But don’t give me any ideas. I really do need to go get started on that build. Sounds like your dad is going to help out.”  
“You guys can bond over manly building stuff, and us ladies will be inside baking. Very last-century of us.”  
  


Leo and Dad both went out to the barn with Matt. Sylvie suspected Leo just didn’t want to get dragged into helping in the kitchen. He’d never enjoyed cooking or baking, though Mom made him learn how. Sylvie was still pretty annoyed at Leo and Allison about that wedding arbor anyway. It was lucky Matt had time, it wasn’t a complicated build, and that Dad had lumber that Matt said was suitable since apparently they now wanted it right away. It wasn’t that Matt was building it that bothered her, it was the presumption of it all. Aside from not wanting to spoil the holiday, though, Matt would be upset if she said anything so she’d wait until after Christmas to call and talk to Leo about it. At 10 o’clock, when Mom had a light brunch set out (the main meal was planned for 2 pm, so they could be done, go to the church hall, be back and cleaned up comfortably in time for church at 6), Allison was sent out to the barn to get the guys. She came back in ahead of them apparently, but she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Sylvie, Matt is amazing! It’s already done, and he showed Leo how to take it apart and set it back up, and it’s perfect. Leo has to stain it still, but your dad said he’d help with that too.”  
“I could’ve _built_ it.” Dad announced as the guys came in the back door. “Just not nearly as fast as Matt did.”  
“You did finish a lot faster than I thought you would.” Sylvie remarked.

“ _Not_ something I’ve heard from you before.” Matt shot back, then apparently realized just what he’d said standing in her parents’ house and went rather pink. Luckily, everyone laughed and he seemed to get over it quickly. Everyone grabbed a bit to eat, then it was time to decorate cookies (mostly Allison, Mom, and Dad) and make gingerbread houses (mostly Sylvie, Matt, and Leo). Leo’s house and Sylvie’s own were pretty simple houses. Matt apparently felt the need to top last year’s candy factory. Mom had clearly foreseen this and stockpiled several different types of gingerbread kits so he could mix and match pieces to fit his ‘vision’. She finished hers in an hour, then she stepped in to help Matt decorate his. He’d constructed a large train station and the train in front of it, a gingerbread Christmas tree outside, but it was a little nude still. Mom had prepped fondant (she knew her son-in-law well apparently this year) and pretty soon they had snow on the ground, on the roof (some of the ‘rainbow tile’ roof showing through), and a sign labeling it “North Pole Station” up on the signboard. Then they decorated the tree, and the building itself was clad in candy and icing. Candy cane sticks were used to make the rails, and the train was decorated with different colors of M&Ms to designate the different cars. She was pretty sure Matt used a bit of every kind of candy in the house, even some of which Mom hadn’t really intended to use for decorating the gingerbread. In the end, it looked amazing – and also like it was going to be very difficult to move. She left that for Matt and Dad to figure out, as she helped Mom pack everything else to head up to the church hall.

This time, when they showed up to the church hall, it was almost like a small-time celebrity was there: Sylvie swore it was like a weird welcoming party, only every little old (or middle-aged) lady in the church was there just to look at Matt’s gingerbread donation. She had a sudden realization Matt was going to want to top his previous effort every year. In like a decade, he’d have to build on-site or something, they’d just keep getting bigger, no one would ever be able to bid on it because it would just be too big and elaborate to move.

“Matt, right there on the center table with that.” Mom directed, as Dad held the door for him, after Mom and Sylvie had already carried in the stacks of cookie containers. Matt was managing, but the balance was key as the thing was about three feet long. Matt set it down carefully, but of course without any incident.  
“You sure you want it there? The others are on that table.”  
“Oh, Matt, dear.” Mom walked passed, patting his bicep fondly. “The ladies and I already knew you were going to be providing the centerpiece for the whole party. I think some of the non-churchgoers might even stop by just to see it, based on the reputation of that candy factory you built last year.”  
“We have to take pictures, Cathy.” Mrs. Anderson insisted. “It’s beautiful.”  
“It could’ve been refined a bit more, but, I ran out of time.” Matt shook his head. “Next year I’ll try to-“  
“Matt, just take the compliment.” Sylvie kissed his cheek fondly.

“If the extra interest stirs up even higher bids, all the better.” Mrs. Bertram remarked, and Matt grinned.

“I hope it does. It’s a great cause.”

“We hate to drop things off and run, but the kids are back off to Chicago tonight, so we’re having the big dinner today before church.” Mom excused.

“Sylvie, I can’t.” Matt grabbed her wrist and whispered urgently into her ear. “Can you come back and get me before dinner in, what, forty minutes?”  
“Why?”  
“Do you seriously expect me to leave these like five older ladies with a ladder, alone?”  
“It’s a six-foot ladder, Matt.” He just raised his eyebrows at her. She sighed. There was no point arguing with him. It was sort of adorable, besides.

“Mom, do you think Dad could come back and pick us up in a bit? Matt wants to help set things up in here.” Sylvie didn’t care if the ladies found out why, even if Matt had tried to be subtle. “I think he’s having a small stroke at the idea of letting the ladies auxiliary up on ladders when he could help.”  
“I can come back and pick you kids up in a bit.” Dad volunteered immediately. “Come on, Cathy, you can finish up cooking with Allison, then I’ll fetch the kids home.”

Sylvie was completely certain that Matt Casey had solidified his place in the Ladies Auxiliary Favorites book. He did all the lifting, all the ladder climbing, and had the place done faster than Sylvie had ever seen it set up. She mostly sat and watched him, because every time she got within three feet of the ladder Matt practically had a conniption. When he wasn’t nervous or trying too hard, Matt’s natural earnestness was completely charming and if he hadn’t been rather blatantly married, she knew he’d have the name and number of every single daughter and granddaughter in the township (or the surrounding townships).

After dinner (if you could call it that in mid-afternoon) they got dressed for church and headed for the Christmas Eve service. She was tired already. She wore out kind of easily these days though she tried to downplay it for Matt. She didn’t want him to worry, and her doctor had reassured her that it was perfectly normal. She made it through the service readily enough, and if she leaned on Matt a little, he certainly didn’t mind, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Unfortunately, it also apparently alerted him to the fact that she was more tired than she was willing to say. The Christmas caroling reception started at 7 o’clock, and after Sylvie had said hello to everyone she wanted to see, and Matt had kind of shyly accepted some compliments on the gingerbread train station, he moved them back over to Mom and Dad.

“Sylvie’s pretty tired, I think we’re gonna head back to Chicago just a little earlier than planned.”  
“I’m fine.” She protested, mostly because it was expected.

“When I say that, I get in trouble.” Matt pointed out.

“Because you’re lying when you say it. I’m not.”  
“You’ll be asleep in the passenger seat before we get to the interstate, for sure. Possibly before Fairmount.” Matt rebutted. Sylvie sighed, looked at her parents and shrugged.

“I’m not going to argue with him about half an hour. It was so great to see you, thanks for everything.” She hugged Dad, while Matt hugged Mom, then they traded sides. She leaned in to whisper in Mom’s ear something she’d just remembered and had forgotten to say earlier. “Don’t call him ‘sweetheart’ anymore – he doesn’t like it, bad memories.”  
“Oh. Well, I’ll come up with some sort of nickname then.” Mom looked determined. She did have nicknames and endearments for everyone. Sylvie hugged Mom again, because she was so damned lucky to have gotten these parents. They picked her and had given her so very much. And if they didn’t leave in the next thirty seconds, she was going to start crying.

Out of pure refusal to let him be completely right, she did not fall asleep before they were even in Fairmount. She didn’t remember the rest of the drive home, though. All she remembered the next morning when they woke up for shift was Matt waking her just enough to get her out of the car, and then carrying her into the house, and putting her to bed. Which explained why she wasn’t wearing pajamas. Matt was an expert at undressing her, but not so much at dressing her. Still, it was already a great Christmas – and so she decided to give him an extra ‘present’, pulling him into the shower with her before they had to leave for shift.


	8. New Year's Eve (Part I)

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was probably busy for everyone, but for ambulances it was always especially busy. Lots of parties and events seemed to mean that they got lots of calls. She didn’t really mind, except she was really starting to feel tired halfway through each shift now, and could’ve used slightly quieter shifts. It didn’t help that Matt had somehow ended up with two extra shifts in the week: both the 26th and the 29th he’d gotten called for over-time shifts. Extra money with a baby on the way was, she supposed, always nice, but they didn’t really need the extra money and she hated not seeing Matt for a whole 24-hour shift. The 26th he covered Engine 51 – Bonomo’s wife had broken her leg on Christmas Eve and he was staying home for childcare and general assistance – but the 29th he’d ended up covering for Truck 43 down in South Shore due to some shortage of manpower thing. She’d worried more about him at a different house than covering an extra shift at 51, plus, she didn’t like that he’d worked five days out of seven – sure that sounded like a “normal” schedule to people, but those people had jobs that probably were 8- or 9-hour days, not 24-hour shifts.

She didn’t really like being home alone those shifts. It let her sit and worry about Matt. She always worried a little, the nature of his job was dangerous, more dangerous than hers most of the time. Plus, she couldn’t kick that lingering paranoid fear about what had happened the last time he worked outside of 51. During the day, she did some shopping online (mostly online) for the baby. She tried to avoid the stuff that she might get at the baby showers (which her mother, Stella, and Cindy were arranging), figuring that they’d fill in any blanks in those categories later. It turned out Matt hated the idea of a gift registry, not just for weddings but in general, because he said a gift you demanded wasn’t a gift at all but like some sort of ransom payment. She wasn’t sure she agreed, but she did think it was sweet that if there was going to be a baby shower he wanted books and clothes for the baby that’s it – nothing big. But she researched and bought nursing bras and tank tops, breast milk storage containers, a nursing pillow, and even a pretty top-of-the-line portable electric pump with rechargeable battery, cooler, and tote. She might not need it yet, and it was expensive, but it wasn’t like Matt was going to complain about her spending the money. She was pretty sure she could say “it’s for the baby” and he’d sell his own kidney to purchase whatever it was.

She went across the street to Molly’s about 7 pm. Maybe it was a little strange for a pregnant woman to hang out in a bar, when she couldn’t drink, but it was nice to have friends around and there was always someone there she knew, especially on nights when they didn’t have shift the next day – Herrmann and Otis would both be behind the bar, and Mouch would be there, other people from 51 would come and go.

“Hey, kiddo, ginger ale or something a little more risky tonight?” Herrmann asked as she settled onto a stool.

“Oh, hell, let’s go wild. Can you make me a virgin mojito?”  
“Coming right up. Where’s the captain? He ain’t been letting you out of his sight if he can help it lately.”

“He’s over-protective.” Sylvie sighed. “Our poor baby is never going to be left alone. I can already picture him just staring while she sleeps, watching her breathe, just staring all through the night or day or whatever, just in case the slightest thing goes wrong.”  
“He’s a first-timer.” Herrmann shrugged lightly as he went about making her drink. “Go easy on him, he’s just wanting to make sure he takes good care of you is all.”  
“I know, and it’s fine, really. Did you know he’s building our nursery furniture? Crib, bassinet, changing table, all of that. He’s so into everything. We had to move our anatomy scan because he got called into cover a shift today. There is no way I'm going to that without him.”  
“Didn’t he have an overtime shift day after last shift too?”  
“Yeah. Truck down in South Shore needed cover – it was a house without a Chief, so they needed a captain and there was no available floater or something.”

“How’re you feeling? Nervous yet?”  
“A little. But I feel okay, and I think that helps. Matt’s just guessing all the time, he can’t feel any sort of connection like I can.” Sylvie sighed. “The house just felt kind of empty tonight with him on shift.”  
“Well, you want company, you came to the right place. Hang out right there all night if you want, we’ll take great care of you.”

“I know you will, Herrmann.” She smiled brightly at him.

She set her alarm for the morning, which she normally didn’t like to do on the days they didn’t have shift. Matt had become like the biggest sleep hall monitor or something, and if he thought she wasn’t getting enough sleep he’d just turn her alarm off when he got up anyway. He was kind of a sweetheart and a jerk like that. It didn’t help that she’d started having pretty vivid dreams the last few weeks – some vivid good (though on waking, she’d felt a little bad that she’d sort of had sleep-sex with her husband, he hadn’t complained once he realized she didn’t feel taken advantage of, even though she’d apparently been the ‘aggressor’) and some vivid bad (the most recurring one was losing the baby in some way – not like a miscarriage, like she had the baby but just left it lying somewhere accidentally). He’d read a lot of stuff about pregnancy and was pretty anal retentive about her getting 8 hours of sleep on any night she could (shift was obviously uncontrollable). But this morning, she got up kind of early to make breakfast. Matt should get home around 8:30 and she wanted to have a nice meal ready for him.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Matt said as he came into the kitchen from the back. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she finished cooking the potatoes he liked. “Good morning, babe.”  
“Sit down. And I wanted to do this for you because I have no idea if you had any sort of decent meal for the last 24 hours. You’re getting too skinny, Mom was right.”  
“You should be resting.”  
“Matt, I’m twenty weeks pregnant, not forty, and I only just got up a little while ago. I got plenty of rest, I promise. What about you? How much sleep did you get last night?”  
“A little.”  
“Define a little.” His use of terms was sometimes questionable, like ‘fine’ and ‘not a big deal’.

“1 am house fire. Got about an hour before the bell went off, and another hour or so between 5 and 6. Thing about being the sub, you can't let paperwork linger, had to finish it this morning.”

“Sit down. I’m going to plate this for us, and we can eat together. It feels like forever since we really ate a meal just the two of us.”  
“It’s been a couple days.” Matt agreed. “Way too long. How’d you sleep?”  
“Only had one weird dream. You and I were having a threesome. You’ll be pleased to know it was with Rey from Star Wars.”  
“Uhm…I would be, maybe, if I could remember which one was Star Trek and which one was Star Wars and keep it separate from the other things Otis made us watch.” Matt confessed, but he dug into his breakfast.

“Rey is the dark-haired main character in the movie about, oh, the ‘Empire’ has re-arisen and is evil and using the force to take over again.” She tried to summarize as efficiently as possible.

“With the rolling robot thing. Orange and white ball.”  
“That’s the one.”  
“She’s almost as hot as you. Not bad.” Matt grinned at her. “Did I enjoy this particular dream encounter of yours?”  
“Oh, we both did.” Sylvie admitted with a laugh. “Pregnancy dreams are so weird. I’ve never even imagined a threesome before and it just popped up last night. Kind of wished you were here when I woke up from it, though – the real thing is definitely better than dream you.”  
“I don’t know…real me is kind of tired.” Matt admitted, after she leaned over to kiss him firmly. “I know you had some shopping you wanted to do, babe, but do you mind if I take a nap this morning?”  
“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep. We have shift again tomorrow.”

Working New Year’s Eve was always interesting. There was always the risk of actual structure fires, of course, but most of the calls would be for medical calls, car accidents, or people stuck in something they had no business getting into to begin with. The only good thing was that it usually operated like a potluck, everyone brought something and basically they all ate a ton (if the shift wasn’t slammed). Christmas had been much the same. The first part of shift was pretty quiet, but everyone knew it would probably ramp up after dinner, so they prepped all the rigs carefully, including fully stocking the ambulance and double-checking it, ran a few short drills, and had a meeting to cover some new protocols for next year. Matt cooked dinner (a rare treat for the house, Sylvie was pretty spoiled, he cooked at home pretty regularly) and to Mouch’s very evident delight had decided on Chicken Parmigiana - others just had to contribute side dishes. So famous had Mouch made Matt’s cooking in fact that Trudy stopped by, with Ruzek, Halstead, Upton, Burgess, and Atwater as well. Apparently Matt had planned for extras, because there was plenty to go around, and God knew that the CPD was going to be just as busy (if not more) than the CFD tonight. Most importantly, at least from Matt’s perspective, Cindy dropped by with the kids on their way to some sort of kids/teens New Year’s Eve party (Lee Henry was out with his own friends, but the younger kids were all there).

“Miss Sylvie, we brought something special for you!” Kenny announced loudly as he ran over to her at the small round table in the common room. It seemed like Kenny did everything kind of loudly and at full speed, but then, he was seven years old. Max walked more slowly behind him, maybe because he was carrying a plate covered in foil. He smiled at her, then slid the plate in front of her. She peeked beneath the foil and smiled brightly.

“Did you guys help make these?”  
“Uh-huh. Mom let us help with this batch.” Kenny nodded enthusiastically. Matt appeared behind her, undoubtedly lured by the siren call of brownies.  
“Do I get any brownies?”  
“You’re not having a baby!” Kenny replied with some offense. Sylvie couldn’t help laughing. She wasn’t going to explain to the kids (well, Kenny, the older kids were probably aware) that actually Matt kind of was, he just wasn’t pregnant. “It’s not okay for you to get fat!”

“Kenny, she’s not getting fat, she has to gain weight for the baby. Her stomach is bigger because that’s where the baby is.” Luke shook his head, the exasperation of an older, wiser, brother clear in his tone.

“I know that! Mommy said it.”  
“Well, it’s rude to say she’s fat.” Max pointed out.

“Sorry, Miss Sylvie.”  
“It’s okay, Kenny, I promise. Thank you for the brownies.” She slapped (lightly) the hand that was creeping towards the foil. “Seriously, Matt, hands off.”  
“Why do you call him Matt?” Kenny asked, nose kind of wrinkled.

“That’s his name, doofus.” Luke supplied.

“Don’t call your brother a doofus.” Herrmann called from across the room.

“His name is Uncle Casey. Or just Casey.”  
“I’ll let you in on a bit of a secret, Kenny.” Sylvie leaned forward, trying not to laugh again at the little boy. “Casey is his last name. Like yours is Herrmann. His first name is Matt. Not a lot of people know that.”  
“Shouldn’t we call you Uncle Matt then?” Kenny asked, looking up at Matt. Matt squatted down in front of Kenny.

“Your dad calls me ‘Casey,’ so you just go right on with ‘Uncle Casey’ okay?”  
“You don’t mind?”  
“Nah, I’m used to it. Only my mom and my wife call me by my first name anyway.”  
“Okay.”  
“I mind a little more that you didn’t bring me any brownies. Didn’t we talk about this last time I was over?” Sylvie noticed that Matt never called it babysitting, even when he doing just that – probably because as the older Herrmann kids aged, the idea of being babysat chafed. Unless Cindy and Herrmann were going to be out late, they didn’t really need a babysitter anyway, but Cindy seemed to like leaving Matt or another actual adult if a meal needed to be prepared.

“Don’t speak too soon.” Cindy replied, and gestured to where Annabelle was bringing over another plate, covered in foil. Cindy had already dropped a large tray of brownies on the kitchen counter along with the other treats that had been brought in.

“These are the double extra hot fudge brownies.” Annabelle announced seriously. “They’re best if you can warm them up a little so the fudge gets kinda gooey again. We put in extra hot fudge. Mom and Aunt Trudy are right – you’re getting too skinny.”  
“Well, I guess that goes with my fat.” Sylvie couldn’t help chuckling. Matt accepted the plate carefully, as if it was a great treasure. He was the biggest chocoholic, oh, he tried to be all subtle about it and act cool, but he truly loved chocolate. Sylvie found it adorable and endearing.

“Thank you. Did you help with these then?” Matt asked.

“I didn’t let the boys help because the recipe is more complicated.”  
“How come he gets extra brownies?” Mouch asked, clearly teasing.

“Because _he_ ’s gotten too skinny.” Cindy replied, as Matt stood up and kissed her cheek. “And he installed a new basketball backboard on our garage last week in 20 degree weather, in between working five shifts in a week.”

“It wasn’t a problem, but thanks for the brownies.” 

“You’re welcome. Now, come on, kids – we have a party to get to.”

The first of the typical New Year’s calls came in at 8 pm. Sylvie was actually kind of ready to work off a couple brownies. She’d tried a bite of one of Matt’s, and it was actually _too_ chocolatey. Matt acted like he was having an orgasm when he ate one, though, which was utterly disturbing and distracting at once, mostly it made her grateful they were in his quarters (he had openly announced he was locking his brownies in his quarters and disappeared after dinner – Ritter and Gallo had gotten out of cooking so they had clean-up duty) because she didn’t want to share that sight and because she might have pulled him into a pretty serious make-out session. At some point the extra horniness would surely go away, but for now, her body just kept telling her to have him, right now, and she…okay, on shift she usually tried to put those urges off, but she didn’t always succeed. At 9, they had a call for a lift assist. Of course, Main had dispatched Truck 81, who was conveniently coming off a car wreck call nearby. The poor girl – she was only seventeen – had fallen in the shower but she was big enough that with the angle she was at (and a broken leg so she couldn’t help take much of her own weight) there was no way her parents, or Emily and Sylvie could lift her.

Matt led the way into the room, got a step into the bathroom (which was already a little crowded) and turned right back around. Sylvie could hear him quietly issuing a few orders. She suspected it was something about minimizing how many people helped and saw the girl in this position. Then he came back inside, smiling that gentle smile he had and trading places with Emily.  
“Matt, this is Madison. Madison, this is Matt – he’s going to help us out here.” Sylvie introduced quickly.  
“Hi, Madison. I’d ask how you are, but I think that’d be a silly question right now.”

“She’s got a broken leg, possibly a clavicle too from how she fell.” Sylvie reported to him, so he’d know the concerns for the lift.

“Do you guys have the new lift chair in 61?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, we haven’t used it yet – it just came in last week.” Emily replied from near the door.

“Okay, Madison, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ve got a sort of chair, it’s in a few pieces that we’ll assemble around you and under you. Then I’m going to lift you, while Sylvie and Emily take care of splinting that leg. Once that splint is in place, we can get a robe around you and they can take you to the hospital.” Matt explained, then turned to Emily. “You guys stay with her and monitor, I’ll send Otis down to 61.”

“Thanks, Cap.” Emily replied, switching places with him again as he went back into the hall.

“Does he have to be the one to lift me?” Madison asked softly, sounding a little plaintive.

“Hey, Captain Casey is the best guy on Truck, don’t worry. I know he looks kind of skinny, but he’s got this.” Emily reassured quickly.   
“Yeah, but…isn’t there like one of them who at least doesn’t look like an underwear model? This is so embarrassing.” Emily bit back a laugh, then seeing Madison’s look of almost betrayal – they had developed a rapport with her already – Emily had to explain.

“You should see the lieutenant on Rescue Squad – Captain Casey’s best friend, just to make it worse. First day I saw them standing next to each other all I could think is why are all the officers in this house calendar models not real firefighters.”  
“Captain Casey is very professional, don’t worry about being embarrassed. He’s not thinking about anything but getting you up and to the hospital safely, I promise.” Sylvie assured Madison.

“She’d know his mindset, too.” Emily leaned in a little, “she’s married to that ‘underwear model’ – kind of disgusting, isn’t it?”  
“He’s your husband?” Madison asked.  
“Yep.” Sylvie couldn’t help smiling. “Most of my patients don’t get to meet him, you know, you’re pretty special. And if it makes you feel any better, he’s pretty completely oblivious to the fact that he’s a total cutie.”  
“Ladies, are you ready for me?”  
“You’ve already done your worst.” Emily shot back, gesturing to Sylvie’s stomach.

“Hey, there’s a patient in the room.” Matt teased right back. “Madison doesn’t want to hear about that, she might think I’m a happily married man. What do you think about Madison for a name for her, Sylvie? I like it.” Matt was quickly assembling the chair around the girl. Sylvie was a little worried if he could lift her himself, she looked to be just about three hundred pounds, but if he didn’t say anything, she didn’t want to ask. He knew his own capabilities, surely. She definitely didn't want to add to Madison's embarrassment.   
“You’re having a girl?” Emily asked, surprised.

“We don’t know yet. My husband is busily wishful thinking – he wants a little girl.”

“So, what do you think, Madison? Is it a good name to have?” Matt asked her brightly. “I don’t think we can get a better expert on it than someone who has to live with it already.”

“Isn’t your name Matt?” Madison asked, but at least she was thinking about something other than her situation – well, at least part of her was. “I like my name, but maybe it’s like…it’ll be like she’s a junior or something. Matt and Maddie.”  
“Yeah, didn’t think about that, and her Uncle Kelly likes to be a jerk and call me Matty sometimes – just to piss me off.”  
“ _Uncle_ Kelly?”  
“You see why I’m trying out names with people who have to live with it.” Matt said, almost conspiratorially, making the lean in that was necessary for him to get a good lift seem natural to the conversation. “You think his parents really took the time to think about saddling a boy with a name like _Kelly_?”


	9. New Year's Eve (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who has been waiting for 'Protective Matt' I think this one's for you.

By some minor miracle, they had managed to both be in the house at precisely midnight. In deference to their location, she intended to keep the kiss a peck, but Matt had slightly different plans. Whatever those were – and they probably didn’t include the jeers from the others and popcorn being thrown at them – they were ended by the bells just a moment later. Truck was called out to the same location as the Ambulance, but it was a person down, which meant that it was probably a bar or some other place that Main considered they’d need crowd control. The bar was pumping, not surprising given the proximity to midnight – no one had gone home yet and everyone who was going to be out was out. An employee must’ve been set to be lookout, because they were shown into the back of the bar pretty quickly – helped in parting the crowd both by the gurney and the lurking presence of the firefighters behind them.  
The apparent scuffle in the bar had been contained by now, the combatant parties separated, but there was still some serious tension. Sylvie called in for a second ambulance just on standby, it looked like two guys were going to need to be checked out. If they could be civil, they could (with permission) transport them both together in 61, but best to get that possible outcome already going up the food chain. She and Emily each took one for now. Sylvie’s guy had a pretty good gash on his forehead, a bloody nose, and a split lip.

“What’s your name, sir?”  
“David.”

“David, are you having any double vision, dizziness, ringing in the ears, any nausea?”

“My face hurts. I have a headache. I’m fine, just bleeding.” David replied firmly. Judging by the smell of his breath, he was also pretty drunk. “That asshole just punched me, out of nowhere.”  
“You grabbed his girl’s ass, man!” One of the small crowd shouted.

“I didn’t touch his ugly-ass ‘girl’!” David shot back. “We were just toasting, getting ready for midnight, when that motherfucker clocked me – sucker punched me.”  
“You grabbed my ass!” Apparently, the ‘girl’ in question (Sylvie thought she looked about thirty) felt the need to chime in. “He was just defending me from fucking perverts like you!”  
“Hey, calm down everybody.” Sylvie tried, but she could feel it ramping up. Drunk people and arguments never went well.

“Get out of my face, bitch.” David tried to wave off the woman, and then Sylvie was on her ass as someone shoved her aside and swung at David. She couldn’t see much of the next twenty seconds or so, because she was on the floor, trying to get up in between moving legs and people. Hands under her arms lifted her back to her feet then, and forget a bar fight, they now had bigger problems. Stella grabbed her, trying to hold her back. In between the rest of Truck 81 and what she supposed were bar security guys once again separating people, she could see Matt, and that was the problem. Not that she could see him, but Matt himself. She guessed that the guy Matt had pinned against a wall, face first, his feet nearly clearing the floor entirely, an arm ratcheted too far up and behind him, was the one who had pushed her over. She wanted to think that someone other than Matt had caused the rather obviously broken nose that was gushing blood down the man’s face, but she didn’t actually think that.

“Brett, are you alright?” Emily asked, appearing beside her.  
“I’m fine, I landed on my butt. Did Matt…do that?”  
“Oh, yeah, I think so.” Emily confirmed. “Slammed the guy face first into a table, then against that wall before anyone could grab him.”

“I think our buddy David might’ve actually broken his nose, not Casey.” Stella ventured. “Hard to tell, Captain was on him pretty quick.”

“He could get fired for this.”  
“Yeah, I don’t think he cares.” Stella shook her head. “And I ain’t goin’ over there to tell him.”  
“It’s just Matt.” Sylvie pointed out.

“Nope.” Stella shook her head again. “Only a few things Kelly’s scared of that he admits to, and one of ‘em is Casey’s temper snapping. I’m gonna give him another minute or so to calm down. Not until you’re completely checked out and I can say you’re definitely okay.”  
“I might have a bruise on my butt, that’s all.” Sylvie shook off both Emily and Stella. She moved over to Matt, moving until he could see her at least out of the corner of his eye. She could see him fighting to rein himself in, and she flashed back to that stupid photographer in 51, who tried to sneak pictures of Gabby coming out of her shower or in the shower, something – Gabby had said Matt was ready to rip his head off. Sylvie had thought it must’ve been a slight exaggeration. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Someone get this guy off me!” The guy sort of shouted, and Matt just tightened his grip. Sylvie could imagine hearing the man’s arm creaking under the pressure. “He broke my nose!”  
“You just flattened a pregnant paramedic.” One of the bouncers scoffed helpfully. “Didn’t no one here see nothing but that firefighter restraining you.”  
“Casey.” She tried to call him that on calls. She also tried to remember how Kelly had talked to him that night at Molly’s, with Gabby. Kelly had called him Matt. “Matt. You with me, Matt? Talk to me, Matt. Are you with me?”  
“I’m with you.” Matt’s voice was damn near a growl, all but unrecognizable, but he was talking.

“Are you listening to me, Matt?”  
“I’m listening.”

“Okay, good. You and Mouch,” she locked eyes for a second with the most senior guy on Truck, and he nodded acceptance of the task, “you’re gonna go outside, just the two of you. You’re gonna let this guy go, Otis has got him, and you and Mouch, you’re gonna go outside.” Matt nodded sharply, looking around, and basically handing the guy off to Otis. A couple cops had finally shown up, so she didn’t worry too much about Otis actually handling the guy if he got stupid again. Mouch kept a hand on Matt’s shoulder, walking him outside. Only once Matt had cleared the back door and was outside did Sylvie feel like she – and most of the people standing around – could take a full breath.

“That guy’s nuts – look what he did to me!” The guy complained to the cops. The cops looked at Otis for an explanation.

“He shoved our PIC, Brett,” Otis nodded in her direction, “to the floor to get at that other guy,” pointing towards David, “so Captain Casey restrained him.”  
“That’s how it happened.” The bouncer backed Otis’ statement. “Guy shoved that paramedic to the floor hard.”  
“How’d his nose get busted?”  
“Bar fight – hard to tell.” Otis maintained steadily.

“That firefighter slammed me into a table, then the wall!”

“You shoved that medic?” The cop asked the guy.

“Not on purpose!”  
“Buddy,” the cop shook his head, “you put hands on a paramedic in front of five firefighters and you didn’t end up seriously hurt, consider yourself lucky.”

“He broke my nose!”  
“The bar fight broke your nose.” The bouncer once again helpfully announced.

“You know that firefighter who _restrained_ you?” Otis leaned in, but his voice wasn’t at all quiet, he wasn’t worried about being overheard, and this part of the bar was now pretty quiet (though apparently up front, the party was still going plenty strong). “Turns out, he was a pretty damned successful MMA fighter, back before he came on the job. And you just shoved his pregnant wife to the ground right in front of him. Sir, I have to congratulate you on being the luckiest son-of-a-bitch I’ve met in a long time. We all figured he was going to put you _through_ that wall, not pin you to it.”

Shift quieted down around 4 am, as even the late parties wound down, and the last of the drunk drivers apparently stopped crashing. They’d been busy for pretty much those hours straight, on one call or another. She’d just had time to check in with Matt before they had to transport David to Med. She had reassured him, twice, that she was fine, she’d just fallen on her butt. She hadn’t missed the slightly haunted look in Matt’s eyes or the slightly nervous look in Mouch’s. Matt was calmer, though, and his voice was his own. They didn’t have time for a discussion right then. Instead, she knocked softly on the door to his quarters at just before 4:30 am, then moved inside to sit on his bunk.

“Matt, we need to talk about what happened earlier.”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry.” Matt moved to join her on his bunk, softly shutting the door to his quarters.

“You know how lucky you are that everyone said you just pinned that guy to the wall? Matt, you were in uniform, on a call, you can’t lose it like that.”  
“I can’t…not lose it.” He was clearly frustrated by trying to find the words. “Sylvie, you can’t ask me to not get pissed when someone puts hands on you. He could’ve hurt you, he could've hurt our baby.”  
“He didn’t hurt me, and I don’t think he even meant to touch me at all.”  
“But he did. He put hands on you in anger and...I can't _not_ react to that.” Matt pointed out. She caught sight of his hands, and grabbed his right wrist because it was nearest.

“What did you do to your knuckles? You didn’t punch that guy, did you?”  
“No.” Matt looked a little offended, oddly. “I didn’t even break his nose – the other guy is actually the one who used his own momentum to take him face-first into the table. I nearly took his head off, and I think I nearly broke his arm, but that’s it.”  
“Okay.” She took a moment to process that. She believed him. Matt was honest with her – just like when he refused to be sorry for what he did, just a moment ago. It made her feel better, actually, a lot better. Matt had restrained himself. It might’ve been a near thing, but he had actually managed it. She focused on his knuckles again. He had clearly hit something, more than once. How had he hidden this on that many calls tonight? Surely one of the medics on one of the calls should’ve noticed. Except they usually wore heavy gloves on calls, protection against all the debris natural to their job. “Did you do this on that call?”  
“Yeah.” Matt nodded. “I think I scared Mouch. Kelly’s sort of used to it, he’s always been the one – him and Andy – who dealt with it before. Bill Gallagher, I guess, but that was different, when I was angrier, wilder. This, I just, I had to hit something. The first time Gabby left me – when she first came on to Truck 81, you remember – I put my fist through some drywall. Sometimes, I just have to hit something. It’s never a person. Well, I want to hit a person, but I rarely do. Not since Ted Griffin have I actually done it.”  
“Kajihiro said you had a mean right hook – he saw you lay out Griffin at the academy.”  
“Griffin was an insecure little shit. Couldn’t handle that he wasn’t even in the top quarter of the class at the skills. Not the top half in most of it. He did fine on the paper tests, that stuff, I think – I heard – but actually firefighting, he was mediocre.”  
“You weren’t.” Sylvie surmised easily.

“Top of my class in that stuff – the paper exams, not so much, so I didn’t graduate top of the class, just near the top. I guess I was the ‘highest’ guy he felt he could take down a few pegs. Spread the story about my family around the academy class.” Matt shook his head. “I lost it when he made a comment about my mom, in prison, as a…he implied that she was messing around with the guards, you know?”  
“Oh, Matt.”  
“Yeah. I punched him. At least no one talked shit about my family after that.” Matt sighed. “I got so damned lucky the other guys in the class backed me. Like I did tonight. Promised myself I wouldn’t risk my career for my temper ever again. Chief Hemmersbach – retired a few years back, used to run the academy – called me in, said he knew what had happened, knew why the other guys covered my ass and hung Griffin out to dry, said he’d have done the same thing.”  
“I don’t know him, but I like him.” Sylvie concluded easily.

“You know, he’s the only person other than Aintin Jo who ever acknowledged that as a trauma?”  
“What?”  
“He said it was just like Griffin running his mouth about any other trauma in a person’s life, and he had better learn better or people were just going to keep cleaning his clock. But, still, I’ve worked so hard since then to hold on to my temper.”  
“So, what did you hit tonight?”

“I, uh, need to go back and repair some damages to a cinderblock wall around the dumpsters for that bar.”  
“You broke through cinderblock? With your hands?”  
“I was angry.” Matt shrugged.

“God, did you break any fingers?” She moved her fingers gently over his, feeling flinches from pain but nothing that felt like any sort of fracture. She moved up his hand, then his wrist. It was swollen and clearly painful, but she didn’t detect any breaks. “If the swelling doesn’t go down in a day or two, you’re going to need x-rays to check for fractures.”

“Nothing’s broken.” Matt shook his head, removing her hand from his just to bring it up to his lips and kiss the back of her hand softly. “I am sorry if I scared you tonight.”  
“Matt, I thought…I thought you were going to hurt that guy.”  
“So did I.” Matt admitted. “I’m not sorry I thought about it. I’m not sorry I pinned him to that wall so hard he’s gonna have bruises for days. I’m not sorry I scared the piss out of him. I can’t be. Because if I said I was sorry, that would mean I wouldn’t do it again, or I'd try not to do it again.”  
“But you would.”  
“What I did tonight? Absolutely. I’d do worse if someone actually hurt you, Sylvie. You have to know that. I can’t help it. It’s who I am. I told you, there’s parts of me that aren’t a good man. In some ways, I am my father’s son.”  
“No, you’re not.” Sylvie grabbed both of his hands, needing to hold some part of him but also keep looking straight in his eyes. “Your dad hurt people he loved, or was supposed to love. Your instinct to protect the people you love is just a lot stronger than maybe some men’s, but it’s natural in a lot of ways and I can’t judge you for it. Not after what I thought about doing to Janet Gayan and Terry Anderson when they hurt you.”

“Thank you.” Matt kissed her very softly.

“For what?”  
“For being the one to get me outside with Mouch. Letting me have that outlet.” Matt paused, glanced away for a moment, then came back to her gaze. “For loving me, even the messed up, scarred up, ugly, scary parts of me. I know I’m not easy to love-“  
“You are for me.” Sylvie cut him off. “I didn’t want to fall in love with the ex-husband of my ex-best friend, but you made it so damned easy, and here we are. But Matt, you have to hold onto that temper. I’m not quitting work. You can’t react like this every time someone touches me.”  
“He didn’t ‘touch’ you. He shoved you to the ground, you and our baby.” Matt considered something for a minute. “If he’d done it to Emily, I still would’ve pinned him to that wall. Just probably not as hard or with quite the same delight in the broken nose the other guy gave him. So, I can’t say I’m sorry, you see. A real apology requires three parts, that’s what Aintin Jo taught me: taking responsibility, acknowledging the harm done, and trying not to do it again.”

“In this case it’s that third one that you can’t promise, huh?”  
“I acknowledge I scared you. I did it, no one made me do it. But yeah, I can’t…if some guy puts hands on you again, I’m going to react like that again.”  
“Just be careful. I’ll do my best to not…I’ll be careful, too, just please, Matt. Think. You could lose your career over something like this.”  
“I think I should’ve cut Hank Voight a tiny bit more slack.” Matt sighed. “Sylvie, you and our baby, that’s all that matters to me. My career lets me pay the bills, sure, but I could pound nails for a living, too. Not as good of a living probably, but we’d make do. The only thing I _need_ in this life is you, and our baby, safe and sound with me. That’s it. I can’t rewire my brain to be less protective. I can’t.”  
“I don’t want you to change, Matt. Just be careful. Keep your better angels holding that last bit of control.” She kissed him to seal their agreement or decision or whatever this was. Maybe it was just an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started the first draft of the last chapter of this story - amazing! I'm so glad people are still enjoying this series and this story within the series. I appreciate all the kudos and comments, even the ones I don't reply to are read and appreciated, I promise. I'm just trying to focus my time on writing the draft (and some relevant research) so please don't take offense if I don't reply.


	10. 22 Weeks - the Anatomy Scan

They were a little later than usual getting their anatomy scan for the baby, because they’d canceled when Matt pulled overtime and then the doctor had to fit her in for a pretty substantial appointment time on a day that they were scheduled to be off. Sylvie was not taking any leave days or even hours because she was saving everything for later in the year, when she’d need it. The CFD’s policies for maternity leave were…well, they were improving but they still weren’t great. Sometimes, she felt like the CFD had been dragging its feet about making any policies about female employees since the first ones started like 40 years ago (and they’d been sued multiple times over it) and that was because it was run by old guys who really would prefer if the whole department went back to an all-boys club. She was incredibly lucky, too, that they could afford for her to take unpaid leave after her paid leave ran out if she needed it (which she probably would, 6 weeks of paid maternity leave didn’t really work for a desk job that well, let alone something like being a paramedic) because Matt made good money and would have extra income from construction work probably. She was still starting to feel stressed, and she knew Matt was too, about the logistics of actually having the baby.

Still, that didn’t matter much today. Today was all about getting a little peek at their baby, making sure he or she was healthy and perfect. Sylvie felt great (well, great for a pregnant chick) but there was still a desire to have everything checked and double-checked. Matt was having trouble sitting still, but at least he wasn’t pacing the waiting room. He’d been subtly bringing up when the doctor was going to tell her to take leave or shift to a desk job, but he wasn’t pushing, quite. She knew he wanted her to do that now, but she didn’t want to, she could still do her job, and she also just plain didn’t want to give in to this hovering over-concern about everything. She loved the man to death, but he was damned aggravating sometimes. She hadn’t carried anything in his presence in weeks, and his firefighters were nearly as bad: Otis had insisted on moving her stool for her last night at Molly’s, as if even shifting the stool was too much stress for her (Matt hadn’t arrived yet, or _he_ would’ve done it). It was a little like being as if she was the baby, not carrying a baby. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Matt asked.

“I’m trying to estimate how many more weeks I have before you make me go to work wrapped in bubble wrap and packing peanuts.”  
“Pregnancy can alter balance-“  
“I know that, Matt, all of it. I feel fine, I can still do the work. When I can’t, you’ll be the first to know.”  
“You’re not just going to go all 40 weeks to be stubborn and spite me, right?”  
“No.” She bit off, barely, the ‘I’m not Gabby would you stop treating me like I am’ that wanted to go on the end of that. She was a little sick of his issues right now. Her patience was not great, and she got the impression from friends who’d had babies that she might not have patience for him for a while. She just tried to remember that Matt meant incredibly well and it was just an outgrowth of his love for her and their baby – he wasn’t _trying_ to be a stifling sexist jerk. He could go to work all sorts of injured and that was fine, but she wasn't even sick, just pregnant, and he acted like she was dying. Seriously, the man had shrugged off her worries about him open-water swimming in Lake Michigan last week (in January!) but worried about her temperature like the slightest change signaled certain doom. His penis did not make him impervious to you know, basic common sense like _**not**_ swimming around the 'icebergs' in Lake Michigan for charity. 

“I always worry about you. On the ambulance. Every run. Even before.” Matt admitted softly.

“I know. I worry about you on calls, too. Especially now.” She did, actually. Her pregnancy dreams had gotten more specific or something, but the recurring dream about leaving the baby somewhere had been replaced by recurring nightmares (well, really sad dreams) about Matt not coming back from a call. Or from that stupid swim. There were sharks in Lake Michigan, weren't there? In her dreams there were. Maybe it was ridiculous. Still, she'd been scared. Thankfully all he'd gotten was that other kind of turtling, and yes, she'd teased him about it because it was still like that when he got home. Then she'd forced him into a warm bath and blankets to get his core temperature back where it should be. “What if you get hurt, or worse? That’s more likely than for me to get hurt, and I couldn’t…I don’t know how I’d do any of this without you. So I promise to be careful and you promise to be careful and we try not to…lose our minds, I guess.”  
“I have double the worry right now. You’re both together.” Matt smiled softly at her. “I am careful, you know?”  
“You’ve made a career of always taking the most dangerous jobs, Matt. You lead from the front. You’d never put any of your crew in a task you wouldn’t do yourself, and normally, I love that about you. It’s noble and kind and sort of fearless, which is actually kind of a turn-on for me, if I’m honest,”  
“Really?”  
“Matt, seriously. We’re in the doctor’s waiting room.”  
“I can hold the thought until we’re home.” Matt grinned.

“Just promise me you’ll be like fifty-times extra careful.”  
“Absolutely everything I can do to be safe, I will do.” Matt crossed his heart playfully. She knew he meant it though. She just wished she fully trusted he'd remember it on the job. As much as she truly was attracted to that fearless streak in him, it also utterly terrified her. 

Once they were called back, there were all the familiar checks that had to be run through, and the basic questions from the nurse. Matt was still restless, not quite pacing the room but not standing still either. Finally, Sylvie was laid back, her stomach bare, and they were able to watch the screen for a sight of their little one.

“I think we’re supposed to tell you that we don’t want to know the sex of the baby.” Sylvie realized suddenly she hadn’t said that. Matt had worn her down, not the other way around. He was right that if they knew, they’d tell everyone, or somehow give it away. And he was also right that she didn’t really like all the super-gendered gifts, where people went really overboard with pink and purple for a baby girl or blue and red with a baby boy. This way, they’d probably get neutral stuff, and they could decorate the nursery with a gender neutral theme and not have to worry about updating everything for baby #2. They both knew they wanted another baby, so it made sense to think long-term.

“I will make sure not to point out anything, then.” Their sonographer, who had introduced herself as Kayla, smiled broadly. “You guys want the surprise, huh?”  
“I love surprises. He doesn’t.” Sylvie nodded at Matt. “But, we also can avoid waves of pink or blue this way, too.”  
“Okay, well, I’m going to be taking a lot of pictures and measurements, this should take about 30 to 45 minutes depending on just how awake and cooperative little baby Casey is.”  
“No kicking yet, but I can sort of feel her moving.”

“Her? Mom has an instinct, huh?”  
“Actually, Daddy wants a little girl. He’s just used ‘her’ enough I’m kind of used to it.”

“And here is our first look at your baby.” The sonographer froze the screen for a moment.

“Wow. It looks like a real baby. Last time it was sort of baby like, sort of.” Matt remarked, his voice soft with what Sylvie was pretty sure was awe.

“Okay, I’m going to start with the brain and work through the organ systems, and take measurements of the baby’s skull, girth, spine, femur, basically lots of things. I’ll skip telling you the sex, and I’ll flag it on your file so Dr. Nguyen doesn’t say anything either. Dr. Nguyen prefers that the techs don’t interpret any of the scans, it all will be done by her. That doesn’t mean I can’t answer questions, just know that some of your questions you will get a ‘Dr. Nguyen will tell you that’.”  
“If there’s something wrong, when do we find that out? That’s the purpose of this scan isn’t it, to make sure the baby is healthy, no genetic or developmental abnormalities or anything, right?” Matt asked. “It’s not really about pink or blue cupcakes or whatever.”  
“Dr. Nguyen will let you know as soon as possible if there’s any causes for concern.” Kayla assured him as she continued to move through different angles and click on things efficiently.

“Will we be able to like, accidentally give the sex away to ourselves?” Sylvie asked.

“Have you ever read a sonogram before?”  
“I’m a paramedic, so I’ve had some training, but not really for checking anatomy on a baby.”  
“I had training a long time ago but…yeah, I can see a baby, that’s the head and a leg. Is that the hand by her face?”  
“Baby is sucking her or his thumb it looks like.” Kayla confirmed with a smile.

“How…how big is the baby?” Matt asked.

“About the size of a coconut on average.”  
“And the little…everything is perfect, just really tiny.” Matt sounded amazed and baffled. “I mean, that’s a foot. Even I can tell that’s definitely a foot.”  
“And if you’re really certain you don’t want to know sex, you might look away now because your baby is not shy.” Kayla laughed lightly. “Spread little legs on this one.”  
“That is definitely your child, then – already spreading the legs out to take up as much room as possible when sitting.” Sylvie teased Matt, both of them looking at each other instead of the screen. “Between that and my random cravings for food I used to hate but you love, I am blaming this little one entirely on your genes.”  
“If she inherits my taste in food and sports teams, and your intelligence and beauty, this will be one lucky kiddo.” Matt leaned down to kiss her.

They got incredibly lucky, and Dr. Nguyen was able to look over the scans that same day and called them to let them know. They were in the clear for any abnormalities. Baby Casey was completely perfect, though a little skinny for gestational age, but not really concerning. She went over all the measurements, and Sylvie supposed that as a medical professional she maybe should’ve followed it all more closely, but all she was really worried about was the ‘perfectly healthy little baby’ part. It felt even more real now. They were more than halfway there. In just 18 weeks, they’d have little baby Casey right here in their arms and in this house.

They were on shift a couple days later when Sylvie felt the first solid kick. It startled her, then she easily realized what it was. She’d just been kicked, from the inside. She put a hand on her stomach, trying to see if it could be felt from outside. She didn’t want to get too excited just to not be able to share this with Matt. She’d felt the baby moving before, but nothing this clear and sharp. Yeah, that was definitely a kick, she could feel it against her palm. Emily was just pulling 61 back into the house, so as soon as it was in park, Sylvie was out of the rig and headed for Matt’s quarters. 81 was in its spot, so he should be there.

“Woah, Brett, what’s the rush?” Cruz asked as he headed for the Squad table with some snacks but also held the door open for her.

“Where’s Casey?” She asked as she passed.  
“Chief’s office.” Cruz called after her. Damn it. She couldn’t interrupt something important just to have Matt feel her stomach. She just didn’t want him to miss this. She was sure that this time the movement was enough for him to feel it against his hand. She put her hands on her stomach, willing the little one to stay awake while Daddy finished up his meeting. Luckily, either the meeting was short or it was at least nearly done before she got back. She practically pounced on Matt as he came out.

“Come here.” She pulled him to the side, thankful it was late enough in the evening that the office staff had all left.

“Sylvie, what-“ He cut off as she shoved his hand up her shirt, to rest on her stomach right above where she’d felt the kick. She waited, inwardly urging the little one to strut his stuff for Daddy. Matt raised his eyebrows, clearly asking her a question without actually asking.

“The baby was kicking.”  
“You’ve felt it moving for a few weeks.”  
“Yes, but this was hard enough you should be able to feel it, too.”  
“I don’t feel anything.”  
“Well, your child is being stubborn apparently.”  
“Not that I don’t love having my hands on you, babe, but I can’t stand here all shift.”  
“Fine. Paperwork in your quarters?” She pulled his hand out from under her shirt, and tugged him after her. Chief was now standing in the door to his office. She smiled at him, heard him chuckling, and she wondered if Matt had pulled some sort of face at him. Matt was starting to do that now, pull faces when he thought she didn’t see him, usually one of those annoyingly cute ‘I’m indulging the crazy pregnant chick’ faces. Once they were in his quarters, she reclined on his bunk, while he sat down at his desk but also looked at her like she might be slightly insane. She’d been hanging out in his quarters practically since she got pregnant. Why was he looking at her like that?  
“What?”  
“It’s nearly 11 pm.”  
“I know that.”  
“Don’t you want to try to sleep while there’s no calls?”  
“I can rest here.”  
“You’re not even laying down.”  
“Laying down in these bunks sucks for a pregnant woman. There aren’t enough pillows for one thing, and I’m not supposed to sleep on my back now, and God knows I can’t sleep on my stomach until at least June. If I try to sleep on my side, I end up on my back, but then your baby starts pressing on my diaphragm or something, and I can’t really sleep anyway. So this is fine.”  
“Why don’t we get you one of those pregnancy pillows?”  
“I sleep fine at home. I have a perfect pregnancy pillow there.”  
“No, you just stole pillows off the guest bed.”  
“I meant _you_ , jerk.” Sylvie stuck her tongue out at him. “I’d rather sleep with _you_ than a pregnancy pillow.”  
“While the comparison is great for my ego, I rank right above cotton fill,”  
“Why are you being a jerk tonight?” She interrupted, mostly just teasing him.

“I don’t think Chief will be very happy if you sleep in here, with me, on shift. Not regularly.”  
“I guess I could get one just for nights I’m on shift.” Sylvie had to admit, there were nowhere near enough pillows on the standard bunk for her to comfortably sleep. She felt a flutter, then another good kick. “Matt, get over here!”  
“What?”  
“Get over here!” She was afraid if she moved the baby would stop. Matt moved over, obediently putting his hand right where she directed it. There was nothing for a moment. She pressed his hand a little more firmly down (he was getting way too gentle with her, even during sex he was treating her like she was made from spun sugar lately). She could still feel the fluttering, but knew he wasn’t going to feel that. A sharp kick, right under his hand (and hers atop his, but she could only feel it from the inside) and Matt almost jerked his hand away.

“Does that freak you out?” Matt asked quietly.

“Not really, the first time I felt the baby move was a little strange, but it’s normal now.” She paused, considering, “does it freak you out?”  
“A little yeah. It’s also the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. That’s our baby. Alive and literally kicking and…shit, I’m going to be a dad.”  
“Matt, you’ve had like three months to know that. You’ve been working on the nursery and nursery furniture.”  
“Yeah, but this is, like seeing the ultrasound and it’s really a baby. A tiny helpless baby and I’m going to be responsible for it. Forever. What if I suck at it?”  
“Matt.”  
“What if I’m…I mean, I’ve got to be one of the worst candidates for parenthood. What if I turn out like my parents? Either of them?”  
“Matt, you’re not your parents. You are going to be a fantastic daddy. You are so kind, and so good, and so giving, and even if you try to hide it because you want to be all manly, you’re so sensitive, you’re one of the most loving people, you’re going to be great at being a parent.”  
“That is so…” Matt trailed off, feeling another couple kicks. After a moment, he just shook his head, smiled at her, and pulled her into a deep kiss. “I love you so much. I don’t have the words for how much you amaze me.”

“I love you, too.” She smiled at him, brushing her fingers along his jaw. She could try to tell him how much he amazed everyone around him, every day, but she knew he wouldn’t really listen to her. He’d hear her, blush, say thank you, but he wouldn’t _listen_ to it. He was going to be a great daddy, but she swore to herself that their babies would never grow up like he did, unable to ever measure up to unstated expectations and burdened with guilt he never spoke about, certain that it was always his fault whatever bad thing happened to him he somehow caused or deserved. She’d have to bring up therapy again, gently, but not right now. Right now, she just wanted to share the feeling of the little life within her showing off for Daddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I was going to let you know the sex of the baby this early? Of course not. I have to keep you interested enough to keep reading ;)


	11. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm...mostly smut. Not long on plot, though I sneaked some in.

There was so much changing in their lives right now. Of course, she’d known that would happen when they started a family but as it was happening it was still a little overwhelming and part of her wished they had maybe settled into married life a little more before deciding to take on the massive life change of adding a baby to the mix. They’d gotten a new car, replacing hers with something with a roomier backseat for ease of access to a car seat. Matt’s truck had no backseat, so he wasn’t taking the baby anywhere in it, ever. Okay, not ever. Just not until the baby was like eight years old or so. Sylvie figured that in a few years, she’d be able to talk Matt into a new truck (finally) that had an actual rear seat. It seemed like she spent most of her days off now looking up safety information on everything from which new car to buy to which strollers were best and the safest car seats and a couple terrifying sites about why things like walkers were baby death traps. Despite Matt’s disdain for registries, she’d gotten him to cave on a registry for the baby shower Mom was throwing in Fowlerton on Easter Monday. Sylvie was taking a little leave time to go down to Fowlerton for a week or so before the baby was born, but Matt wouldn’t make it. He’d given in only because Sylvie had argued that her parents’ friends in Indiana wouldn’t otherwise have much clue what to get them for their nursery. It’s not like they’d really know her and Matt’s taste, after all. So she spent some time putting that together. There was always some baby-related prep work to be done – even if, as Matt said, that prep work included naps and snacks.

They had shift on Valentine’s Day, so Matt insisted that he take her out the night before so they could ‘celebrate’. The dinner was beautiful, but she definitely loved the night out at the Biograph Theater more. The musical was great, and she knew it was a sacrifice for Matt because he didn’t like musicals, and she was still humming some of the music as they drove home. She kind of hustled into the house from the garage, mostly because it was damned cold, even for February it was cold, and their house was going to be much cozier. Matt could catch up, he wasn’t in a dress. She had time to hang her coat up in the closet and enjoy the warmth for a few moments before Matt caught up. She decided to make it up to him, getting sort of ditched outside even for just a couple minutes, by pouncing on him as soon as he was in the house. She kissed him firmly, waiting for his mouth to open and let her tongue in to tangle with his. She loved kissing him. After several minutes, though, he finally pulled away from her.

“Sylvie, let me take my coat off at least.” Matt laughed lightly.

“Take it all off, baby.”  
“Haven’t we talked about nudity in the kitchen?”  
“We’re not cooking anything and if anyone is staring in our back windows this late at night, that’s really creepy and whatever they see is their own fault.”  
“You’re serious.” He realized it, he didn’t ask it.

“I’m completely serious.” She affirmed for him, just to be extra clear. “I have been wanting to have you in this room since you finished the renovation because it is beautiful and so are you and for some reason, I have this fantasy of you and me having sex on the island.”  
“Best. Wife. Ever.” Matt grinned, shed his coat quickly, tossing it across a couple of the chairs in the dining area before pulling her back towards him, this time, his tongue diving into her mouth as they kissed. He picked her up, walked a couple steps, and set her down on the island. He stood between her legs, so she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him in even closer. Eventually he pulled away from her mouth, trailing kisses along her jaw to her ear, then down her neck, and soon had his face practically buried in her cleavage. There was a lot more of it than there used to be, and this dress was certainly showing that off.

“Matt.” His name was all she managed as he shoved one of the straps to her dress over her shoulder, so the dress fell away from her on that side, and he pushed aside the cup of her bra, mouth latching on to her nipple quickly. She was so much more sensitive there now and she arched into his attentions. In fact, she realized swiftly, if he kept doing that, she was actually going to come just from his mouth on her nipple. “Matt. Don’t.”  
“What?” He pulled back, looking confused, mostly like he’d only partly heard her. “Don’t what? Do you…are the nipples a ‘no’ now?”  
“Don’t make me come yet.” She finished the sentence she’d meant to say, now that her brain was working a little better. Matt grinned at her.

“Never thought you’d say that to me.”  
“I’m so close, Matt, just from you sucking on my tit. Unzip me.” Matt hurried to comply, and the other side of her dress gave up the fight against gravity and fell away from her chest as well. Her stomach did a good job of catching it, but then she was also sitting down still. She moved to slide off the island, wanting to lose her dress.

“Woah, what’s-“  
“I’m just taking my dress off.” She reassured him.

“Let me help.” He grabbed her waist and eased her return to the floor, she pushed her dress down to the floor, and kicked off her shoes. She’d worn pantyhose because of the cold, so she was left in just the hose, her underwear, and her bra, which really she was about half out of considering her left tit was well out of the cup. Matt must’ve found it an alluring sight, because he pulled her against him swiftly, apparently tempted out of his ‘treat her like spun sugar’ trend of late, and she melted into the strength of his touch. There was just one major problem though. Matt was still in his clothes. All of them. That was just not acceptable. So she concentrated, as much as she could, on shoving his jacket to the floor and unbuttoning his shirt while they kissed. She wanted at him, had to feel his skin under her hands as soon as possible. Once his shirt had joined his jacket on the kitchen floor, she undid his belt, just as Matt released her bra. His mouth was back on her nipple, this time the opposite of the pair but God, it was like he knew exactly what to do to send her careening towards orgasm, his mouth on one nipple and his fingers at the other, and she gasped, body going rigid as she came.

“Oh, Matt.” She managed, as she calmed a little. He didn’t give her much recovery time, but worked her pantyhose and her underwear both down, dropping easily to his knees to remove them entirely. Once there, he looked up at her with one of his wild grins, put both hands behind her thighs, and pulled her over his face. Fucking hell, was she supposed to manage to stand while he did this? Was he insane? Her legs were nearing jelly in moments as he ate her out with his usual gusto, though the angle was a little different. She ended up leaning against the island behind her, using it for support as he maneuvered one of her legs over his shoulder so he had more open access to her pussy and clit. She gasped for breath as she came on his face, God, she was coming so easily these days, but no matter how often she came, she always seemed to want him again soon – in this instance, right away. She didn’t feel like she could ever get enough of him.

He stood back up, and it took her a second to realize he wasn’t just giving her a breather, he was taking his pants off. He was a very intelligent man, knew exactly what she wanted, and that was him, naked, right now. Once he was as naked as she was, he pressed up against her, pinning her against the island, or at least, pinning her lower half against the island. His hands cupped her tits, massaging gently, as his eyes met hers for a moment.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are like this?” Matt asked, voice low and throaty, and damn, that voice did all sorts of things to her, no matter how turned on she already was, it always sent her up a level or two.

“You like my new tits?” She asked, knowing he did. She’d caught him staring often enough, and he spent enough time with them every time they had sex.

“Fuck yes, but seeing you…fuck.” He kissed her, hard and deep. He pulled back, practically growling into her neck as he mouthed and nipped along her neck and collarbone. “Your belly…my baby…fuck, it’s the hottest fucking thing.”

“You like seeing me swollen with your baby?” She encouraged him, letting him know she was far from offended. “Does it turn you on to know you put your seed in me?”  
“Fuck.” He made it almost three syllables, so she knew that was definitely a yes. “Mine.”  
“All yours, Matt.” She agreed as he claimed her mouth again. She was lifted back up onto the island, and once she was sitting, he spread her legs as wide as they went and then two fingers were in her, quickly three, and he knew just how to fuck her with his fingers, how to dig in and curl his fingers, and she bucked wildly a few moments later as she came for a third time in what felt like just a few minutes, maybe it was maybe it was an hour, she’d lost track of time completely. He withdrew his fingers, and she snapped her legs closed around him, nearly sliding off the island in her rush to get their bodies back aligned as closely as possible. His hard cock was practically at her pussy already and she writhed against him, trying to get him inside her. Instead, he pushed her back, until she was lying flat on her back across the island, which was cool against her in contrast to the heat of him, still between her spread legs. At first, she though the angle might be a problem, the island a little too tall for this, but then he pushed inside, gently at first as he almost always was, letting her body adjust to the fucking girth of him, which never ceased making her gasp for air as she stretched around him. As he started to thrust harder and deeper, the upward angle of his cock meant he was hitting the spot on the front wall of her pussy with every single movement and she knew she was screaming as she came again, so quickly, too quickly, too hard, it was almost too much, and he wasn’t easing her through it, he just kept fucking her like that, hard and fast and mind-blowingly well, and she felt like she might be having a seizure or something when a second or was it fifth now orgasm was right behind that one and she arched off the island, head thrown back, unable to even scream this time, like her whole body just whited out, and the next thing she knew she was sitting up, her chest pressed to his, the cool counter top only just beneath her ass as Matt held much of her weight, and he was still fucking her, her stomach a little awkward between them but who cared, he felt so fucking perfect inside her, and she could tell from the fast and erratic pace of his thrusting that he was just chasing his own orgasm now, but she felt another orgasm of her own building somehow, and she buried her face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder as she came apart again, feeling his body shudder against hers.

She came back to her mind a few minutes later. She was sitting on the island again, her legs dangling over the side, with Matt still between her legs, somewhat supporting her, but also catching his own breath. She felt a mess dripping out from her pussy, and reached her hand down as if to catch it or drop it or some irrational thing to save the floor (that hardly needed saving it was a kitchen floor, intended to sometimes get messy, though she doubted he’d planned the material for this sort of mess).

“Fucking hell.” Matt groaned, and she didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d dropped to his knees and was eating her out again, and she almost came off the island she jumped so much.   
“Matt! Don’t!”  
“Why?” He asked, but went right back to what he was doing.  
“That’s…isn’t that gross?”  
“You taste so fucking good.” He shook his head, lapped at her firmly but not hard, and she was sure this man was going to kill her. Right here. She could not come again, not for now.   
“Matt, it’s too much.” She couldn’t help flinching a little as he hit her clit. Too sensitive for sure.

“You even _taste_ better pregnant.” Matt remarked as he stood back up. She envied him that fluidity of movement, she was getting clumsier each week as her center of gravity kept shifting as the baby grew and her stomach changed size. He smiled at her. “And if you’re asking about whether I think it’s gross to taste a bit of me in there, too, well, if I thought it was gross, what would it say about me if I liked _you_ to taste it, fucking hell, _eat_ it, even though I thought it was gross? Plus, the visual is fantastic, you gaping open with your come and mine all, fuck, I’m gonna get hard again.”  
“Already?”  
“You have a certain effect on me.” Matt confessed with a broad grin and a small shrug. She started to respond, then saw his neck.

“Matt! Oh, that is going to leave a mark!”

“I love it when you leave a mark on me.”   
“It’s on your neck, Matt. We have shift tomorrow.” She winced a little, not liking the idea of him going to work with a massive bite mark on his neck. It’s not like everyone wasn’t perfectly aware they had sex, hello, she was pretty obviously pregnant, but that was different than him having a huge mark on his neck shouting it to everyone who saw him, including people on calls. It was juvenile and unprofessional.

“Where?” Matt asked, and she gently put her fingers over the livid red mark. He chuckled, which sent little vibrations through her fingers. “That’s fine. I’ll just button the top button on my shirt on any calls we get. No problem.”  
“What if it shows?”  
“Victims are way too busy to worry about a random bruise peeking out of my collar, and the guys on shift won’t ask. It’s fine, babe, don’t worry so much.”  
“Did you just tell me not to worry so much? Matt you have basically earned a degree in worrying the last few months!” She couldn’t help laughing at his sudden nonchalance.   
“This is different. It’s not like anyone got hurt.”  
“That didn’t hurt? Seriously?” The mark was really a livid red. She bit down way too hard.   
“Hurt? Maybe if you’d just bit me, sure, it’d hurt, but when we’re all revved up like that, I don’t know, it’s different. Felt fantastic.”

“We should go to bed.”  
“Definitely.” Matt agreed. She shook her head, laughing at him a little, as he actually put his underwear and pants back on. Just for the walk upstairs in their own house. “What?”  
“You are a strange man, Matt Casey.”  
“What?”  
“Nothing. Upstairs. I want you in my bed beside me in five minutes or less.”  
“Uh, maybe a tiny extension?” He asked, as they finished gathering the scattered clothes and started heading towards their bedroom.   
“What for?”  
“I have a present, well, sort of a present, for you. Cruz and Otis were happy to bring it by while we were out. It’s upstairs.” Matt paused at the base of the stairs to set the alarm. Break-ins while people were home weren’t common in this neighborhood, but still, having a good alarm system was just basic common sense (and it saved them a ton of money on homeowners).   
“It better not be anything sexy, because-“ She started, as she headed up the stairs.  
“If it was, do you think I’d have asked Cruz and Otis to bring it by – before they went out on their own Valentine’s dates?” Matt sounded amused and a little baffled, following behind her.

“So, what is it?”  
“What happened to I like surprises?” Matt teased, but as she turned towards the master bedroom, he grabbed her wrist. “I didn’t intend to present this to you naked after mind-blowing sex, but, I usually end up liking your plans for our nights better than my own anyway. Come on.” He tugged her gently towards the nursery. He led her to the center of the room, which they’d only just painted a nice medium gray (gender neutral as it could get). This morning, there had been no furniture in the room at all. Now, a beautiful crib was along the wall. It was a light oak, it looked like it had been left unstained, though she knew he must’ve put a clear protective coating on it, but it was the perfect shade of untouched oak that she loved so much, it just felt so natural like that. Three sides had bars, close enough together there was no way any dangerous bits of a baby were fitting through, and the back was a solid piece.

“Is that shiplap?”  
“You love it.” Matt shrugged lightly. “It’s a bit thicker than ‘usual’ crib construction I guess, to get it to work with shiplap, but it can convert to a headboard as the baby gets older.”  
“You, I know you built this, Matt, but it’s…it’s perfect. So perfect it’s hard to think, oh that sounds mean.”  
“It’s hard to think I made it.” Matt finished for her.

“You just keep amazing me with the things you do, that’s all.” Sylvie turned to kiss him.

“Don’t be too amazed. I’m still not done with the rest of the furniture. I’m nearly done with the changing table and the bookshelves. The dresser will probably be another couple weeks, depending on if they need me for overtime. The bassinet and rocker is…I’ll have it done for your birthday. I have to, well, I want to leave it a surprise.”  
“Take your time, baby. This is, Matt, you could make a living building stuff like this. I mean, in this city, people would pay a lot of money for custom furniture like this!” She gushed, moving around the crib. There was no mattress or anything in it yet, but she could picture it all perfectly together and their baby inside it sleeping. She couldn’t help it, she started crying.

“Hey, Sylvie, no.” Matt pulled her into his chest. “Please, don’t cry.”  
“It’s happy crying.” She assured him. “This is just perfect. I mean it.”

“I’m glad you like it.”  
“Oh, I need to take a picture-“  
“Do it tomorrow morning, or it’ll still be here after shift, do it then. Let me take you to bed.”  
“To _sleep_.” She cautioned him with a small smile. “I’m way too worn out from that impressive show in the kitchen for anything more tonight.”


	12. A Big Decision

Now that the crib was in place, and just a couple days later Matt had delivered the bookshelves and the changing table that matched, she had started really decorating the nursery. The light but warm tones of the white oak (he’d confirmed the choice of wood) was perfect in the room. They had put in a neutral light gray wool carpet when Matt renovated the house – the same carpet was in all three bedrooms in fact. It left décor wide open. Of course the first thing she’d had to find was the best crib mattress. Then they had to pick a theme – gender neutral, of course. Matt hadn’t been too sure how he felt (so he said) about her choice of a ‘Dr. Seuss’ theme until it started to come together. Of course, _he_ had to put the murals and word art on the walls because he totally did not trust her to do it right. They’d fought over it a little because she wasn’t helpless, but then, he really did get it up a lot faster than she would have. Of course, he was good at getting things up. Even in her head, she was still super pervy. Everything about Matt was low-key (at least in her head) about sex, and had been for weeks. Some of the women in her prenatal classes were jealous, because they had like no libido. She hadn’t said anything but she’d seen some of their husbands, and maybe that was the problem. Try sleeping next to Matt and not wanting sex. It was impossible. He like…oozed attractive out of his pores or something. Anyway, Matt seemed to really like the bright colors and the animated figures around the nursery. She loved it.

They had asked for storybooks for baby shower gifts, at least primarily. Sylvie had seen that done somewhere else, and liked the idea. Plus, it got around Matt’s general dislike of strict registries/lists. Asking people to give the baby their own favorite childhood books, he’d said, was letting _them_ pick what they wanted Baby Casey to have, so it was like an actual gift not a ransom. He’d taken to calling the baby simply ‘Peanut’. She thought it was absolutely adorable. He also had whole one-sided conversations with her stomach, which was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen or heard or experienced and it might make her diabetic if she thought about it too much. He read from firefighter manuals, talked about projects, read sports pages, anything he was interested in that day he told ‘Peanut’ all about it. She’d asked him for his own childhood favorite books, and she’d gone out and gotten ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ so just about nightly (off-shift) he read it as a ‘bedtime story’ to the baby. She didn’t know how the baby felt about the start of the tradition, but she knew Matt loved it and looked forward to it.

On shift, Matt was hovering. He wasn’t subtle about it, there weren’t too many subtle bones in the man’s body. Everyone on shift, in fact, was starting to hover. She hadn’t lifted any part of a stretcher in a couple weeks (and if any of the guys from 51 were on the call, it had been far longer than that). They brought her food and drinks to her, and volunteered to help with inventory and any other tasks they could do for 61. She was encouraged to take naps regularly. She was basically waiting for them to start offering to carry her on a litter about the place. She was pregnant, not crippled. But it came from really good intentions and lots of love, which she tried to keep in mind when she was feeling stifled. It also kept even Capp out of any leftovers marked with her name on it – she wasn’t sure if that was kindness or the fact that the guys all seemed terrified of Matt’s reaction. Since New Year’s Eve, the guys were giving him just that little bit more of a close eye, too. She couldn’t complain about that.

They got called out to a fire at a retirement home. Not a nursing home, this was just a building full of condos with a minimum age of 55. No one in the building could have kids living with them, the manager said. Apparently, they had activities and trips, things that were organized by the owners’ association – so the posters in the lobby announced anyway, as they walked through to head upstairs. Sylvie thought the idea was kind of sweet, but it also felt unnatural to have no young people in a community. It made the place a risky fire, though, lots of people who might not be at their most mobile (even if it was an ‘active senior community’). Engine 72 had been first on scene, but had asked for a second alarm as soon as they confirmed a fire, so 51 got called out in support. Chief had sent Foster and her into the building with Truck 81 to assist with evacuating a resident from the fifth floor. Mrs. Tuttle, they’d been told, was wheelchair bound and needed help leaving her apartment since the elevators were shut down. The fire was on the fourth floor, but only one apartment over from Mrs. Tuttle’, so they needed to move quickly, but not at a run. Emily carried the stair chair. Sylvie just focused on moving quickly up five flights of stairs. It used to be no problem, but pregnancy weight and pregnancy balance made things newly challenging. She was grateful Matt led from the front, so he wasn’t behind her at least – that was Otis, who Matt had specifically told to bring up the rear and make sure the medics were ‘covered’. He meant to take care of her. At least it was Otis who was babysitting her. Mouch was in front of her, between Emily and her, in fact. What he was meant to ‘cover’ she didn’t exactly know.

At the fourth floor landing, she could feel the heat through the metal fire door. She knew 72 was on the fire floor attacking it, and 51 was running the exterior houses and pumps. She didn’t think they had control of it yet. Apparently Mouch didn’t either – he bodily put himself between that hot door and her, then fell back in (she presumed) behind Otis. They got to the fifth floor, and she knew there was a bit of a lag (just a bit) between Emily’s pace up the last two flights and hers. Matt had shot her a look, but it was just for a second, like he was checking on her breathing then assured himself she was fine after all, and was back directing everyone.

“Mouch, Otis, do a sweep, make sure everyone else is off this floor on this wing – the heat off that door downstairs tells me it’s going to get to this floor soon. Check 5E first, see if we’ve already got fire spreading from downstairs. Building manager said everyone but Mrs. Tuttle was accounted for, but double-check every apartment. Kidd and I will be back up if needed to help as soon as we’ve got the victim and the medics clear of the building.”  
“On it, Captain.” Otis replied, and he and Mouch moved down the hall. Matt knocked on the door to 5F loudly.

“Fire Department!” There was no answer they could hear. He tried the door, and it swung open. He led the way inside. “Fire Department, call out!” He shouted again.

“I’m in here!” They moved quickly into the bedroom, her and Emily tucked between Matt and Stella. Mrs. Tuttle was in her wheelchair, but her hair was still wet – the fire alarm must’ve interrupted a bath or shower. She looked to be about her upper-60s in age, no visible issues other than the wheelchair. “I’m happy to see you all. I assume you’re here to be my escorts out?”  
“Yes, ma’am. My name’s Stella.” Stella replied, moving around the medics to kneel before the woman, while Matt did…something. He was moving around the apartment swiftly. He took his gloves off in the bathroom, feeling the tile floor with his bare hand.

“Fire is definitely in 4F. Mrs. Tuttle, if you have any one or two items you really do not want wrecked if that fire comes upstairs – and trust me, fire departments break or waterlog everything – tell us and we can probably carry it out with you: as long as it’s not the sofa. Any pets?” Matt announced.

*Fire has reached 5E – just starting to penetrate up from the fourth floor.* Mouch’s voice reported over the radio.

“Call me Judy, please. No pets.”  
“My name’s Emily, this is Sylvie. Any health conditions or medications we need to grab?” Emily asked, as she set up the stair chair. It was built for moving patients down stairs, Mrs. Tuttle’ wheelchair was not.

“Nothing but this chair, car accident twenty years ago. There’s a couple photo albums in the other room. Oh, and my rings. There on the dresser. I hadn’t put them back on yet.”  
“Okay, here.” Sylvie moved quickly, grabbing was clearly a wedding and engagement ring pair and handing them to her. “We’re going to move you to this chair, okay?”  
“Dear, you better not be lifting me, not in your condition.”  
“She won’t be.” Matt announced firmly.

“That’s Captain Casey’s job.” Stella smiled warmly. “We just bring him along so he can do the heavy lifting.”  
“I thought it might be just for the decorative effect.” Mrs. Tuttle laughed lightly. “You ladies promise not to tell my husband I was swept off my feet by a handsome firefighter?”  
“You can’t have that one anyway.” Sylvie couldn’t help laughing. “This condition of mine is his fault – it’s what I get for marrying a guy who looks like that, right?”  
“Ready?” Matt broke in, moving into position. Mrs. Tuttle nodded, and Matt had her moved in a second, Emily quickly moving to strap her in.

“Sylvie, not to be indelicate, but he’s a rather strapping young man, I’m quite jealous.”  
“Kidd, can you bring her wheelchair along? Looks like a custom job. We’ve got this many people here, might as well tote it along.” Matt directed, and Stella managed to swiftly fold the wheelchair, after a quick pointer from Mrs. Tuttle. “Those photo albums, Judy, where are they?”  
“Tucked into the coffee table. The white one and the navy one – those are the two I really have to save.”

“Brett, can you get those – Foster, you and me will take Mrs. Tuttle. Let’s go.”

The hallway was starting to smoke up, as the fire spread. They moved quickly down the stairs, Stella leading the way, then Sylvie herself, with Matt taking most of the weight for the chair and Emily assisting. Despite the fact that he was busily saving a victim, she knew Matt did not miss the fact that she slipped and very nearly tumbled on the stairs. The staircase was getting smokier, quickly, in fact. She felt light-headed, whether from less oxygen intake or exertion, she didn’t know, but she would’ve had a nasty accident if Stella hadn’t reached out with kind of ninja-fast reflexes to steady her. Thankfully, the air got better as they got below the third floor.

*All apartments on five cleared.* Otis reported, voice crackling over the comm unit. Matt paused for just a second on the second floor landing, speaking into his radio.

*Otis, Mouch starting checking six. Kidd and I will join you as soon as we have cleared the medics and patient from the building.*

*Copy, Capt’n.* Otis confirmed readily. They moved outside a few moments later, Matt getting the stair chair as far as the open end of 61.

“The medics will check you out here, Judy, before clearing you, okay?”  
“Of course that’s fine. Off you go, back to your proper job fighting fires instead of helping old women in wheelchairs.”  
“Judy,” Matt took a knee in front of her, a smile gracing his face for the first time since they’d entered the building, “helping beautiful ladies is the best part of my job. And my wife can’t even get mad at me for sweeping them off their feet.” He winked broadly at Judy, who just laughed.

“We’ve got her, Capt’n.” Emily announced.

“Kidd, you good?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Matt nodded, and hit the radio on his shoulder. *Chief, Casey and Kidd are headed back in the northwest stairs to help clear the sixth floor of the north wing.*

*Copy that, Casey.* Chief’s voice came over the radio. Then Matt and Stella were headed back towards that burning building, a view that was far too familiar to her. He glanced back her, and shot her a firm look.

“There’s too much smoke, you’re not going back in that building, no matter what.”  
“If-“  
“Understood, Captain, sir.” Emily cut her off. Sylvie glared at her. If they were needed, they would have to go in. It was rare, but it could happen. Emily just raised her eyebrows at her.  
“If you think I’m letting you go back in that building when you’re 27 weeks pregnant, and your husband saw that near tumble on the stairs, Brett, you’re crazy. I like you, we’re friends, we’re great partners, but since there’s no way Chief is sending us in anyway, might as well reassure your protective and slightly scary husband.”  
“Of course, _he_ gets to run into smoky, burning buildings.”  
“He’s not carrying your baby, dear.” Judy pointed out. “And I also noticed he put that mask of his on, which you seem not to have.”  
“Captain isn’t taking any chances with himself.” Foster pointed out. “But he’s got turnout gear and an SCBA, which you don’t, so we stay out here. Judy, are you still feeling alright?”  
“I’m fine, dear, well, physically. It startled me, I was in the bath relaxing when that alarm went off. I knew Bill, the manager, would have someone come get me. You know, I always wanted to meet a handsome firefighter when I was a young girl. I finally do, and wouldn’t you know, we’re both happily married?”

Matt didn’t say anything after that call. He didn’t say anything about the call anyway. He didn’t seem upset or angry or more worried than usual. He talked to her normally about perfectly normal things. She knew he’d seen that near-accident on the stairs, but he wasn’t talking to her about it, which was weird for him. Usually, especially lately, he’d have been hinting that it was time for her to give up field work. She was thinking it herself anyway, but it was strange that he wasn’t making a case. Then she thought maybe he was just waiting until they were off shift. If he thought they were going to argue about something, he always preferred to wait until they were home and had some actual privacy.

Even with the body pillow, she slept like crap in the bunks at work lately. They weren’t normally that uncomfortable, but they were bunks and she felt about two sizes too big for a bunk now. But if she sat up in the common room, everyone worried about her. Some nights, if Matt was up for paperwork anyway, she slept in his bunk and slept a little better there. She refused to investigate the fact that the best sleep she’d had in the house in weeks was the night he had not showered from a busy car accident scene and she could smell ‘Sweaty Matt’ from across the room because it was kind of gross to think about too much, but her pregnant body was kind of gross and weird. Tonight, though, Matt’s light was off and she had dozed, thinking he was sleeping and she needed to do the same.

“Brett.” She was gently nudged awake, and recognized Kelly’s voice even in a low whisper.

“Sev’ride?” She came awake a little more slowly than she used to, she was just so tired lately.

“Sorry, really sorry, to wake you but, uh,” Kelly glanced over his shoulder. “Think Case needs you.”  
“Huh? Yeah, sure.” Kelly actually helped her sit up, and then stand, hovering for a second before being sure she had her balance apparently. She wasn’t _that_ pregnant yet, but God bless all her guys, they sure worried about her. Foster came half awake, because they shared a little bunk cubicle thing. “I’m just going to check on Matt.” Sylvie reassured her, knowing Emily would go right back to sleep. Somehow, no one knew how, Emily slept without any sort of ear plugs despite the noises from the bunkroom. Kelly walked beside her, nudging her (as if she needed it) towards the door to Matt’s quarters, then heading off to his own. His light was on, he must’ve been up doing paperwork or something. She wondered how he knew Matt needed her, his back would be towards Matt if he was at his desk, and Matt’s light was off, but maybe the two men really did have some sort of creepy ESP at this point. As soon as she opened the door, she moved as swiftly as she could to shut it again to avoid waking anyone else while also waking Matt. She touched his shoulder, and he nearly ricocheted off the opposite side of the bed in reaction. He came awake with a start, and managed to maintain balance on the edge of the bunk.

“Sylvie, is something wrong?” He asked, sounding panicked.

“Not with me.” She shook her head. “You were having a nightmare or something.”  
“Happens sometimes.”  
“Really? I’ve never noticed.”  
“Just sometimes.” Matt shrugged. Even in the low light she could tell he was feeling embarrassed. “Did I wake the whole house or something?”  
“No, everyone is sleeping except you, me, and Kelly. He woke me, said you needed me.”  
“Jerk. He should’ve let you sleep. You need sleep.”  
“How many nightmares does that make tonight, Matt?” She asked, wondering if that wasn’t how Kelly knew. If he was awake, he might’ve somehow noticed a pattern to Matt’s sleeping.

“I’m fine.”  
“That’s not an answer to what I asked.”  
“Four. That I remember.” He admitted softly. She glanced at the clock. He’d only been sleeping – or attempting to sleep – for about four hours. She sighed.

“Let me guess. Me falling down those stairs today?”  
“That was number one.” Matt agreed, looking apologetic.

“Only one?”  
“Once I get started, I tend to…have replays. Not the same dream, I mean, sort of, they’re not flashbacks that sounds like I have PTSD or something that vets and real victims get, just, memories play up.”  
“What were the others? About me?”  
“No, not really. God, they should be, if I wasn’t a selfish jerk, all my worries would be about you and our baby, but-“  
“You can’t control your dreams, Matt. And it’s not selfish if they’re memories, before you even knew me for example, why would I even be in it?”  
“This isn’t a time to think about me.”  
“Matt, I love that you want to take such good care of me and the baby, but if you don’t worry about you, how can you be there to take care of us? You have to…put your own oxygen mask on first. Then you can take care of us.” She leaned down to kiss him softly. “To help you cope with nightmare number one, though, I made a decision tonight. I’m requesting a change to a desk job starting next week. I have to tell Foster in the morning, and get Chief to sign off on it of course, but given its pregnancy-related, the CFD would prefer to have me off the ambo anyway, so they’ll move quickly.”  
“You’re giving up field work?” Matt looked surprised, but pleasantly so.  
“Yep, until I come back after the baby is born anyway. I sleep better in our bed, and most importantly, my balance is getting bad enough and on calls like today, I’m not going to be able to keep up on all those stairs really soon. It’s time.”  
“You scared the shit out of me today, you know that?” Matt asked after a short pause.   
“I kind of did know that, yes. I was surprised you didn’t chew me out, actually.”  
“Would it have done any good? Or would you have decided I was being a caveman and a jerk and pushed to stay in the field longer just to prove a point about how badass women can do anything?”  
“I…like to think I would’ve reached the same decision I did tonight.”  
“Just so you know, though, Sylvie,” Matt kissed her softly, “you have nothing to prove to me about how ‘badass’ or strong or amazing you are – you are growing a human being, and just because I can lift more and hit harder, whatever, you are at least ten times _stronger_ than I am.”

“For a man who says he sucks at words, you sure find the right ones when it counts.” Sylvie kissed him again. She hadn't actually been worried about his regard, not in that sense anyway, but it was still nice to hear his reassurances. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First draft of this story is complete. So I will definitely be able to keep the one chapter per day pace. Unofficial polling seems to favor giving you guys a little to read each day, rather than just getting it out all there at once. 
> 
> For those trying to keep a timeline in their head, this chapter is in late February 2021.


	13. The Black Knight

She had kept in touch with Julie, and managed in a FaceTime call to tell her that she was pregnant. Julie had been happy for her, and pretty amazed that her grandchild and her daughter were going to be only about a year apart in age. Heck, Sylvie couldn’t help thinking, if she’d gotten started having babies at the same age half the people she knew in high school had, Julie would have a biological grandchild who was seven or eight years old now (maybe older – they hadn’t even gotten out of high school without one member of their class having a baby). It was nice, though, getting to know Julie. Just knowing her helped answer some of the questions Sylvie had always had. She’d always known, of course, that her birth mother was really young when she’d had her, but hearing Julie talk about the situation she was in, it made it all very real and very relatable. She hoped, she thought, Julie was getting just as much value out of the ongoing realization that she’d made the best decision she could’ve, that Sylvie had been happy and loved and was still happy and loved.

Julie had wanted to invite Sylvie to Amelia’s first birthday party, but they were on shift. Plus, as Sylvie had pointed out, it would probably involve Julie telling everyone else at the party about some really old personal history that didn’t necessarily need to be told. After all, it wasn’t like Julie was suddenly going to be Sylvie’s _mom_. Amelia was biologically her half-sister, but she was never really going to be her sister in any meaningful way. Sylvie thought friends might be a good term for what she and Julie might become: like Christmas card friends, mostly. People you tried to keep up with but didn’t see regularly. She just wasn’t sure if there was a way you were supposed to handle connecting with your biological parent you’d never known.

Still, Julie had called and said Scott would like to meet her, and they were going to be in Chicago anyway just after Amelia’s birthday, because Scott’s grandparents lived in Harwood Heights, which was basically Chicago. Julie wanted to meet for lunch at least before she and Scott headed back out to Rockford. Sylvie had easily talked Matt into it, mostly because there was a Portillo’s location in Harwood Heights and she was not in the least above bribing her husband. Also, she currently had an excuse to eat all the onion rings and cheese sauce she could and Matt couldn’t tease her about it because it was his baby making her eat crazy amounts of fattening foods.

“Hi, Sylvie!” Julie called, thankfully it wasn’t exactly a formal restaurant nor was it all that crowded at this time of day. It was late for lunch and early for dinner. Sylvie briefly hugged Julie. “Scott, this is Sylvie, Sylvie, this is my husband, Scott.”  
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Scott.” Sylvie smiled at him, and shook the extended hand. She figured it was probably best if she introduced Matt, “Julie, you remember Matt, Scott, this is my husband, Matt.”  
“Nice to meet you.” Matt shook Scott’s hand, and asked, “did you guys order yet?”  
“We just did, when I got Sylvie’s text that you were pulling in the parking lot.” Julie confirmed, as she and Scott sat back down. Amelia seemed content in her highchair, cheerios spread out that she was dutifully picking out and eating one at a time.

“Sylvie, you sit down, just tell me what you want.”

“I want one chili-cheese dog, one beef-and-cheddar croissant, two orders of onion rings with cheese sauce, and a strawberry shortcake for dessert.”  
“Just two orders of onion rings?” Matt asked, without a trace of sarcasm or teasing or anything.  
“I think so. Thanks, babe.” She kissed him, and he smiled, heading off towards the counter to order. He’d wait up there until it was ready at the pick-up area, she knew. That was just Matt’s way unless it was busy and likely to be an actual wait.

“I remember those days of eating for two, though sometimes it felt like three or four.” Julie laughed. “How are you feeling, Sylvie? Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”  
“I’m fine – just about ready to quit riding the ambulance, much to Matt’s relief. I’m just losing my balance easier, things like that, means it’s best for me not to be going to wrecks and things. We don’t know, we decided to keep it a surprise.”

“I think I wanted to know more than Julie did.” Scott admitted with a tentative smile. “I didn’t think we’d ever be parents, and I just wanted to know as much as possible, you know?”  
“And it let us narrow down names, plus, I could decorate the nursery.” Julie added.

“Matt was very determined to go gender neutral on the nursery, he doesn’t want to redo it for the next baby.”  
“Oh, you’re planning to have more?” Julie asked.

“We say that now.” Sylvie laughed. “Wait until we haven’t had much sleep in months and the baby has colic and suddenly another one might not seem so great.”

“Amelia is a great sleeper, we got so lucky.” Julie smiled. “She slept through the night, well, six hours at a stretch, when she was just a few months old.”

“I hope we get that lucky with this one. Mom says I was a great sleeper, but Matt’s mom says he was a nightmare – even after she was in labor for 38 hours. Nancy says he didn’t sleep for more than 3 or 4 hours at a time until he was almost a year old.”

“Wow, that just makes me really grateful.” Scott shook his head. He stood, as an order was called out. “That’s us, I’ll be right back.”

“I was in labor with you for 12 hours. Amelia was shorter, but it was harder on me – the doctors were worried about my heart, things like that. I was in the hospital longer with her, even though I labored half the hours.”

“I’m glad you’re both okay.”  
“Scott was so worried, about everything. Of course we were excited to have a baby, but I know it was high-risk and really scared him. How’s Matt doing, you said he was a little overprotective last time we talked about it.”  
“He’s always going to be a bit protective, I think. It’s just Matt. He’s nesting as much as I am, honestly. Oh, I have to show you, he’s built all our nursery furniture. He’s still working on the rocker and the dresser, but look at this.” Sylvie pulled out her phone, going straight to the latest photo of the nursery. She’d just sent it to Cindy last night. Julie took the phone, admiring the furniture, as Scott brought the order back. By the time they had their food sorted out, Matt was headed towards the table with their food. Well, her food. He slid the tray in front of her and turned around to head back. Yep, he had to go get his own meal now. He was back in a moment, her iced tea on his tray as well. He’d gotten a traditional Italian beef for himself, a side of fries and one of onion rings. The rest of the meal was mostly small talk about babies, either Amelia’s first year and what that was like or plans for Baby Casey. It was nice. Sylvie also ate half of Matt’s order of onion rings along with her own, but he just grinned and shook his head, which meant he’d ordered it for just that possibility. He knew her well.

Three months to the day before her due date, on March 1, Sylvie had her last shift on Ambulance 61. Well, her last shift for a while. There was always the risk that she wouldn’t be put back on 61 when she returned from leave: City policy said the CFD had to hold a level position for her, but not necessarily her current position. As long as she was put back in as a PIC, the CFD met the required policy. It wouldn’t even have to be on second shift, which she almost couldn’t decide if that wouldn’t be better. That way, they’d only need childcare for the gap between when she went to shift and Matt got home (or vice versa). She hadn’t even had the baby yet, but she was nervous about finding childcare for the necessary 25 hours or so that they were on shift. She knew it was time to give up field work, she just wasn’t really ready, emotionally. It felt like she was maybe saying goodbye forever to such an important part of her life. Still, she had this one shift left.

Chief had actually arranged for her replacement to ride along. She didn’t want to think about who had been bribed with what in order to get three medics on one rig, none of them a trainee. Her replacement had to be a PIC, of course, but it turned out that Crystal Howe had been stuck in the floater pool for a while after moving to Chicago from San Antonio and was just grateful to be coming onto a semi-permanent spot: she was pretty much guaranteed five months in this one house. After thirteen months as a floater because there weren’t any open PIC spots, Crystal said, she didn’t care where it was, she just wanted to work with the same people for more than two weeks at a stretch.

“You worked as a paramedic in San Antonio?” Sylvie asked on their way to their first call of the day. Crystal was driving, and Emily was in back, mostly because the back made Sylvie motion sick now and it was best to let the new girl get the feel of the routes through their district anyway (plus, Matt had sort of ordered sort of asked her not to drive anymore).

“The last three years before we moved up here, yeah. My husband was stationed at Fort Sam Houston. I got out before he did, so I went civilian. I was a medic in the Army.”  
“Chicago might not have any surprises to throw at you then.” Sylvie smiled brightly. At least she could trust Crystal to be competent and to take good care of everyone at 51 and to have Emily’s back.

“City work is always different, but at least you know I don’t get squeamish.” Crystal paused, then continued, “Am I right in guessing that you’re planning to come back once you’ve had the baby?”  
“To the CFD? Absolutely. I’d like to be back at 51, but they won’t promise me that.”

“How long have you been at this house?”

“Almost seven years.” Sylvie had to think about that for a minute. It was hard to believe it had been seven years. It felt shorter and at the same time like this was what her life had always been like. “The guys are great, and it’s a busy house.”  
“Any problems with any of the firefighters being, you know, a little too familiar?”

“What?” Sylvie processed for just a second. “Oh, no, God, no. That’s definitely not allowed, not that I think any of them would be a jerk anyway. They’re great guys. I mean, dirty jokes you overhear sometimes get really filthy, but if you tell them it bothers you, they’ll stop.”  
“I noticed there’s a woman on Truck. That’s a first for me with the CFD.”  
“Yeah, there aren’t a ton of women firefighters. Stella is amazing, though. Sometimes she fills in on Ambo, so if Foster has to be out, you might end up with her, since CFD says Truck can operate with four guys, it saves money.”

“I have to admit, as much as the boys clubs don’t really bother me – I spent six years in the Army – it’s still nice to see some other women in the house.” Crystal glanced away from the road just long enough to smile at her.

Just after ten o’clock that night, while she was supposed to be sleeping (in Matt’s bunk, giving up her usual space to let Crystal start to settle), the bells went off for a full-scale response. Every vehicle in the house was called out, except Squad, who were already on a call in Back of the Yards. It was an apartment building fire at night, there would be multiple houses heading for that fire for sure, possibly another Squad even called out. Ambo pulled out first, having a slightly easier time because they hadn’t had to pull on turnout gear. All that meant was they got to the scene just a few seconds earlier than the rest of 51. It looked like their friends in Engine 72 had been first on the call – Captain Hennessey was the one who had directed them to where he wanted 61 parked and waved over Matt as he slid out of 81. Sylvie didn’t hear the two officers’ discussion, but until Chief got here, Hennessey had command of the fire ground. All Sylvie could do was watch the firefighters start their work, when she wasn’t helping direct the people who were streaming out of the building. She really didn’t have time to think about much as more and more coughing people made their way instinctively away from the building and towards the small line of ambulances. Her radio crackled to life with a familiar voice.

*72, Truck 81 has found the fire, confirm origin point on the third floor. Apartment 320 fully involved, 318 and 322 also heavily involved, spreading fast. 81 is clearing the north wing of the third floor.*

*Copy Truck 81. Engine 72 is charging the hoses now, ready to attack the fire as soon as you’re clear* Hennessey confirmed. Sylvie was a little grateful to hear Matt’s voice, muffled by his mask but still sounding healthy and fine and not even all that stressed or worried yet. It let her concentrate on what she was doing completely. Matt was fine, he knew what he was doing, and he was good at it. Somewhere in the hectic pace of basic triage, she lost track of the messages relayed over the radio. She hadn’t heard a specific call for 61, her ears were tuned for just that sound anymore, so she worked as efficiently as she could, really grateful to have a third medic on their rig right now. Firefighters were helping people out, and she caught sight of guys from 51, quick glimpses to confirm that Otis and Mouch were okay, that Herrmann was still fine – Engine 51 was managing the lines from outside the fire right now apparently – and when she saw Stella she knew Matt was around somewhere, too. She cleared a patient, and took a moment to specifically look for Matt. He was dropping off a patient with Ambo 13’s crew, but he must’ve been looking for her, too. He took off his helmet and mask for a second, his hair wild as it always was at times like this, and he smiled at her, waving slightly. He mouthed ‘I’m fine, I promise’ at her, and she smiled back. He looked sooty and dirty already, sweaty as well, but that was part of the job. He put his gear back on, tapped Mouch on the shoulder, and they headed back into the building, Stella and Otis falling in just behind. She wondered for a second where Gallo was at, then saw him jog to catch up, he must’ve been dropping off a patient somewhere else or something.

*All units, Battalion Chief Boden on site and in command of the fire ground.* Sylvie was comforted to know Chief was here now. He’d been on a call for another house in the battalion when the call went out, relaying that he’d get there as soon as he could, and he had. She liked Hennessey, she just trusted Chief more with Matt’s life, with the lives of everyone from 51. Some of the tension left her, and she was going to miss this, the adrenaline and the energy of a busy call, she realized.

*Chief, confirm fire on the fourth floor. Truck 30 clearing the units.*

*Copy Truck 30. Truck 81, how is the fifth floor looking?*

*Rising smoke, expect involvement in minutes, Chief.* She heard Matt report calmly.

*Clear every unit in the north wing on the fifth floor, Truck 81. I’m sending in Engine 92 to clear the sixth as well.*

*Copy, Chief. I’ll send Otis up to keep an eye out for the hose jockeys, make sure they don’t get lost without a hose in their hands.* Matt was feeling confident enough to tease a little. Sylvie tried to remember who the officer was on 92. It must be someone Matt was friends with. She could hear exchanges back and forth on the radio continuing, but she went back to concentrating on triage. Time lost a lot of meaning at active scenes, you worked as fast as you could and didn’t worry about the time unless you had to for a patient. She didn’t know how many minutes passed before she heard a sound she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget.

*Mayday! Mayday! We have an active shooting incident on the fifth floor!* Mouch’s voice carried, complete with panic, over the radio and Sylvie swore the entire fire ground went silent and still for just an instant. *We need PD support in here now! Repeat, mayday, firefighter down! I can’t reach him!*

*Mouch, is there fire on that floor?* Chief shouted down the radio.

*No involvement yet, Chief!*

*Police headed up now with Squad 2! Main, we have a firefighter down at this scene, requesting another alarm in support. RIT team of Squad 2 going in.*

*Copy Battalion 25. Additional units called. Increased police support requested.*

Sylvie couldn’t see anything from where they were, not really. Most of the fire ground was blocked from view by Engine 51, and the men moving frantically around to provide water to the hose lines running upstairs as well as priming the ‘water cannons’ for use if needed. She caught Herrmann’s eyes for just a moment, he looked almost as panicked as she felt. They had a lot of friends up on that floor. Mouch was probably okay for now, and it sounded like Stella wasn’t hurt yet either, Mouch had said ‘him’ but that didn’t help her because that still left Gallo and Matt. She had never really prayed for harm to another person in her life, but if it meant Matt was okay she was willing to pray for it to be Gallo with all her heart and mind and soul. It might’ve been two minutes, it might’ve been thirty minutes, until she heard the next relevant radio call.

*Police have controlled the scene.* Stella’s voice was clear, stressed but clear, confirming she was likely unharmed. *Truck 81 reporting all units on the fifth floor north wing cleared, Chief. Squad 2 is evacuating Captain Casey. Otis is on six, still with Engine 92, Mouch, Gallo, and I will follow after police.*

*Copy, Truck 81.*  
Sylvie had to sit down. She grabbed the rear of Engine 51, because it was closest. She might be in the way, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she was going to pass out. She couldn’t breathe enough, couldn’t slow her heart rate down. Suddenly, Crystal was in front of her, squatting down.

“Hey, Sylvie, tell me what’s wrong.”  
“I’m just…I need to calm down. I know that. I just…they’re, did you hear the call?”  
“Yeah, one of ours got shot.”  
“It’s Matt.” She could see Crystal was confused. “Captain Casey. Matt Casey.”  
“I hadn’t heard his first name, sorry.”  
“He’s my _husband_ , Crystal.”  
“Wow, they told me 51 was a close-knit house but, okay, that’s different. Come on, lean on me, let’s get you off Engine and over to where they’re gonna be bringing him out, okay?”

She let Crystal help her over towards the line of ambulances. She froze, seeing the cluster of people coming out of the side of the building. Firefighters she didn’t recognize carried Matt to them, one guy for each limb because he wasn’t a small guy but his gear weighed another 60 or so pounds added on, and then she could see Mouch behind, looking nearly frantic, mask and helmet already off, there were more people behind but she didn’t care about them, just watched the firefighters, Squad 2 she realized, deliver Matt to Ambulance 13, at the end of the line and already poised to pull away from the scene. In a second, the crew of 13 had Matt on the gurney, trying to assess his injuries, and something in Sylvie realized she could help. She couldn’t treat, but she could help. Luckily, Crystal clearly predicted her move, because together they hustled over to 13.

“Captain Matthew Casey, he’s 39, no known directly relevant medical conditions, but had an acute epidural hematoma seven years ago, now has recurrent migraines, especially when his body is stressed. No medical allergies.” She reported efficiently, trying to _not_ look at Matt just yet.

“Sylvie” Matt’s voice was strained and quiet, but she still heard it, as the firefighters from Squad 2 worked quickly to get his gear off. Firefighters were always faster at that than the medics. They couldn’t cut through his turn outs, they were built to be cut and tear resistant after all, so the guys knew to peel one of their own out of that stuff for treatment. “I’m alright.”  
“Sure.” She looked back up at Kendall from 13. “He’ll also claim he’s fine even if he’s severed a limb, so don’t believe a word he says.”

“I’ve had worse.” His jacket gone, it was clear that he’d been shot in the lower abdomen. Her medical mind kicked in, if she had to pick a center-mass place to be shot, his lower left quadrant towards the outside was about as good as it could get. They still had to maneuver him to get his turnout pants pulled down, the waist was higher on them and was in the field of treatment. Matt arched from pain, but didn’t so much as groan, she could tell he was biting it back, literally, biting his lip.  
“Yes, you and the Black Knight both.” Sylvie shot back, catching his reference right away and hoping to distract both of them even the tiniest bit. The whole house knew Captain Casey loved Monty Python. It was the best way to guarantee getting the usually pretty stoic man to laugh good and hard – play a Monty Python film. It wasn’t a ‘trick’ they broke out very often, but on occasion, it was good to see him relax and just really laugh.

“We’ve got him, Brett.” Kendall, 13’s PIC, assured as the firefighters helped heft the gurney into the ambo. She shut the doors, giving the usual double slap to signal they were good to go, and watched them pull out. She still had a job to do here. She had to trust Med would take good care of him. She had to try to concentrate.

“Are you Brett?” A cop asked her just a moment later. She turned to him.

“I, uh, I was. It’s Casey now. My maiden name was Brett.”  
“Chief Boden told us to take you to Med – says Howe and Foster can handle your ambulance. I guess that was your husband that was just transported.”  
“Yeah, yeah it was.”  
“Go, we got this.” Foster appeared at her side. “Go take care of the captain for us.”

She was grateful it was Med, at least, that he was taken to because she was alone there for more than an hour before the rest of House 51 began to show up. The staff took as good of care of her as they could, given they were busy. Truck 81’s crew was there first, then a while later, Engine got there. She had thought few things could be worse than watching that ambulance drive off with Matt inside it bleeding from a gunshot wound. Waiting in the semi-private area at Med wasn’t worse, really, it was just a continuation. But then, she saw Kelly’s face when Squad 3 (minus Tony, who was ostensibly parking the vehicle) practically sprinted into the waiting area. They’d been on another call, and it was Squad 2 that had been sent in for Casey, and in that instant she realized that if anything at all went wrong with Matt from this call, Kelly Severide would blame it all on him not being there to personally save the bacon of his last surviving ‘good friend’. They all knew what Kelly meant was ‘annoying shit little brother’: even if Matt was only a little less than a year younger than Kelly and now outranked him, and was often the more responsible and settled of the two, he was definitely the ‘kid brother’. She wondered for a split second what the dynamic with Andy had been like – Andy who was always remembered as the ‘class clown’.

“What the hell happened?” Kelly nearly shouted.

“One of the residents thought the fire alarm was a trick to rob him – grabbed a gun instead of evacuating, didn't answer our knock, and when Casey and I broke in the door to clear the place, I went to step inside, Casey must’ve seen something, the guy fired and Casey tackled me to the side – he got shot.” Mouch replied, shaking his head.

“Seriously? The guy just shot whoever came through the door?” Cruz asked, looking as shocked as Sylvie still felt about it, too. It wasn't all the information yet, but even knowing that much it just, was almost unbelievable. They knocked. They yelled 'Fire Department'. There was smoke, the guy had to have noticed. What the hell?  
“Not even sure the guy’s technically crazy, just…. The cops are looking into it.” Mouch confirmed.

“How…has there been any word?”  
“He’s in surgery.” Sylvie announced. “That’s all we know right now. They have to open him up to assess the damage, clean him out – where he was shot, there was likely intestinal involvement, which makes peritonitis a serious risk, and if you account for the fact that the bullet traveled through his turn out gear which has a large number of possible contaminants and carcinogens embedded in the fibers by this point in his career, they’ll be thorough. They have to check for bullet fragments, but at least there was an exit wound.”  
“Was he…how was he doing?”  
“We didn’t transport him, Ambo 13 did, so I only know what I’ve been told.” Sylvie replied. She took Kelly’s hand and met his eyes carefully. “Will talked to me before Matt was taken into surgery. It looked really promising, he might even be out of the hospital in just a couple days. It could be shorter, but he thought with a penetrating injury in turnouts, they’re going to be worried about infection. And there’s the worry about if he gets worse, how much I can ‘manage’ him, you know, physically help him, when I’m also carrying Casey Junior around with me.”  
“Wait, I thought it was a girl?” Kelly seemed thrown for a second. She wondered how that was what he got out of what she said, but Kelly sometimes processed information strangely, and given how shit-scared he must’ve been on the way over, she could forgive him a bit of disorientation.

“We honestly don’t know. The baby is definitely a Casey though, hasn’t sat still since we went on that call.”

“God, we should sit down, Sylvie. You should rest. It’s the middle of the night.” Kelly shook himself, and guided her over to a couple chairs. She settled back in to wait, grateful for Kelly’s presence next to her. His hand never left hers.


	14. You Got Shot!

It was a very tired Will Halstead who delivered the good news, just around 1 am. Matt was going to be fine. It was a pretty minor injury so far as gunshot wounds went, hit nothing vital, and barring infection he would have to be off work for a week, then light duty for about two more weeks, then he’d be cleared for regular work. By her birthday, Sylvie thought. By her birthday, he’d be back to normal. If he didn’t get anything nasty from a bullet traveling through the filth of his turnouts then through his body. She was so relieved, though, she almost felt like she might faint again for a second. Kelly was there, arm around her, steadying her, of course. Where else would he be? She glanced up at Kelly in thanks, and turned to the Chief,

“Chief, I think you’re going to need to order him a new turnout coat again.” For some reason, it was the first thing Sylvie thought to say. She turned back to Will, “I feel like I need to talk to Jay about body armor for my husband. Is he, can I see him?”  
“The recovery room is finishing with him, he had some local – not even general anesthesia, at his own insistence. Sylvie, he really was incredibly lucky – but,”  
“Given his reaction to anesthesia, they’re keeping an eye on him for a little while longer.” She finished for Will. “He’s said it’s pretty bad.”  
“Mount Vesuvius.” Kelly filled in helpfully. “The ratio of puke to the size of the human stomach was baffling, at least, that's what Shay said. He was puking for hours after he came out of his surgery for the hematoma.”  
“The concussion probably played a part in that, but he has had a less than optimal reaction, so one of the nurses will let you know as soon as he’s settled in a room, which won't happen until his reaction has calmed and he's not straining his stitching. He’ll be here until at least tomorrow afternoon in case of infection setting in. Sylvie, I’m not _your_ doctor, but I think once you see him, you should consider going home and getting some rest in your own bed.”  
“I’ll consider it.” Sylvie smiled tightly. She had already considered it, and rejected it, but Will was just trying to be nice. She was going to be right by his side when Matt woke up enough and was lucid enough for her to slap the shit out of him for scaring her like this. It wasn’t even the first time he’d scared them all like this. Well, exactly like this, it sort of was. He’d been shot before, but he was Gabby’s worry mostly then, and she’d seemed, well, remarkably calm about it after the crisis was over. Come to think of it, Sylvie wasn't even sure Matt had been taken to the hospital, he stayed at the house after being shot. Gabby had been okay with that, calm and like she wasn't even worried about him. Sylvie didn’t think she was going to be calm. She was going to lose her shit. She was just holding it together to lose her shit on _him_ instead of the people they worked with or the staff at Med, because _he_ deserved it for doing this to her on her last damned shift at 51. Or at all. She was going to tell him exactly how unacceptable it was to get himself shot, on shift or off shift or ever. He was not allowed to do stupidly brave stuff anymore. If he got himself killed, she was going to bring him back and kill him herself. Several times. In ways that really _hurt_. 

It wasn’t that much longer, really, only a bit after 1 am when she was finally shown into a room on the sixth floor of Med. She was exhausted and angry and scared and when she saw him, mostly sitting up and blue eyes wide open, smiling gently at her as she came in the room, she couldn’t help it. She threw the ‘stress ball’ Maggie had given her (clearly seeing she was stressed and needed to hurt something even if it was just a squishy ball from the PT department) at him as hard as she could. It smacked him in the face, actually his left eye with a satisfying sound.

“Ouch! Sylvie, what the hell?” Matt asked, holding a hand to his eye.

“You got shot!”  
“I know. I was there. I still have a hole right through me to remind me. What did you even throw at me?”  
“Stop whining it was a little stress ball thing. Maggie got it from physical therapy I think. Apparently I looked _tense_. Because my stupid **_ass_** of a husband got himself _shot_!” She replied as she approached the bed.

“It’s not like I was trying to get shot.”

“You’ve spent the last five months bitching at me about every little possible danger and wanting me to stop working and be careful and think about the baby and you got yourself _shot_!" She was close enough, she could smack him, and she did. Once across the face with an open hand, and then she punctuated about every fourth word with a punch to his right shoulder. "On my last _shift_! How am I supposed to _sleep_ at night knowing you’re getting _shot_ on shift and I won’t even _be there_ to-“ Once she stopped smacking him, he was able to stretch up and pull her down into a tight hug. She ended up practically laying in the bed with him, but once she was in his arms again, she broken down sobbing.

“I’m sorry, Sylvie. I’m alright. I’m right here.” Matt repeated it softly, over and over again, as he held her. She clutched him as tightly as her arms and her awkward belly and the position would let her.

“Don’t you ever leave me, Matthew Casey. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Remember? Not until I’m old and bald and chugging Viagra to keep up with you.” Matt kissed her cheek softly. “I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m right here, with you, and our baby. Are my girls okay?”  
“We’re fine. Scared mostly. And I have to let everyone else in to see you. They’re fudging on visiting hours a lot for us. Apparently being CFD has a few perks.”  
“Sev, I’m gonna bet. Bring him in first. I’ll have him take you home, maybe he and Stella can stay the night-“  
“I’m not going home.” She pulled back, glaring at him.  
“Sylvie, you need to get good rest. You can’t get that here.”  
“If you think I trust you out of my sight right now, Matthew James Casey-”  
“You-“ He started to interrupt her, cut himself off right about the time he registered all three names had been used, then, “You know what? I am not going to argue with my beautiful, patient, incredibly _forgiving_ wife, who clearly knows better than I do what her needs are right now.”  
“See? You _can_ learn self-preservation. Now, let’s work on extending that to fire grounds.”

The floor staff had let all of 51 trickle through, two at a time (not including Sylvie, who only left the room that first time to go get Stella and Kelly). No one stayed very long. Mouch had looked like he wanted to say something the whole time, but hadn’t said much in fact. Sylvie wondered if Mouch was feeling guilty, because Matt got shot while tackling him. Now that she knew Matt was going to be fine, she was almost grateful that it was Matt who got shot – Matt who was in perfect health and basically at peak fitness and a good deal younger than Mouch – but only almost. They found a way for her to sleep in the bed with him, because Matt made an almost decent pregnancy body pillow, and tonight, the steady sound of his heart as her ear was pressed to his chest was the best lullaby anyway. Still, she didn’t get much sleep. A surgical resident came in to do the post-op check 6 hours after his surgery, so at 6 am. Then, the whole crew of residents came through with the surgeon for rounds at 6:30. The nurses gave report at 7. By that point, she and Matt both were wide awake and had no hope of going back to sleep. She tried not to chuckle at Matt’s discomfort with the report of his fluid intake/outtake. The fact that they had to talk about how much he was peeing bothered him. At least he wasn’t on a catheter, she reminded him unsympathetically, just a bed urinal, which Matt still hated. She had snippily told him if he didn’t want doctors and nurses to ask about how much he was peeing, he should work harder to stay out of the hospital. She was still annoyed at him for scaring her. It wasn’t his fault, but she was still mad. During his nurse’s report, when she was asked to step outside, she called Mom and Dad. The good thing about farm life, she knew they were already up (especially since Indiana was an hour ahead).

“Sylvie, dear, I thought you started your new desk job today. Shouldn’t you be going in to work?” Mom launched right into the third degree. She always did lately, though usually it was about how she was feeling and how the baby was doing, sometimes she even remembered to ask about Matt (luckily, he just laughed and said that seemed about the perfect priorities to him).

“No, that’s tomorrow.” Sylvie corrected. “We had shift-“  
“Oh, that’s right. But it’s…aren’t you still on your last shift then?”  
“I would be, except Matt was hurt last night at a fire. So we’re both sort of…here in the hospital now, off shift.”  
“Oh my word. Chuck, come back in here. Sylvie, is Matt alright? Is he going to be alright, rather, if he was alright he wouldn’t be in the hospital, would he?”  
“He should be fine, though I might kill him myself for scaring me this much.” Sylvie admitted, wondering when she’d stop being a little mad at him. It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but she was still mad. It was irrational. It was still there. “I, uh, he was shot on a call. He’s okay, Mom.” She repeated, when she heard the sharp intake of breath.

“Shot?”  
“For a gunshot wound, it was low-risk and a pretty easy fix. He’s also in good health. The biggest concern right now is infection, wound care, and…” She held back tears, which she didn’t even know why she was crying, she just was, “Mom, can you come up? I know it’s basically no notice for the farm, but Matt needs some help for a couple days and I can’t do it alone, physically, not right now, and I could ask Stella or Kelly or but I kind of want my mom.”  
“Your dad is already calling Dale Wilmer to cover the chores until Leo can come out. We’ll be there by this afternoon, Sylvie. Is Matt there?”  
“No, I’m in the hall, he’s, they’re doing rounds. Thank you, I’m sorry to ask-“  
“Baby girl, don’t ever be sorry for needing us. That’s what parents are for, Sylvie. You’ll see. You’re feeling it a bit now, but wait until they hand you and Matt that baby and you hold her for the first time – trust me, I’d do a lot worse and harder things for you than this. So would your father. Now, one last question. Did you call Nancy yet?”

She called Nancy as soon as she was off the phone with Mom, because Mom was right, Matt’s mother did deserve to know. Sylvie was struck by the difference in parental reactions: her parents dropped everything to come up, Matt’s mother just asked for her to have Matt call when he was feeling up to it. That’s it. Not even a mention of visiting her son, who was shot, and in a hospital bed. Matt had just shrugged when the message was passed on and said ‘that’s just my mom’. Sylvie had cried, and Matt had held her, and then she cried harder because he was apologizing to her for his mom, and the whole reason Sylvie was crying to begin with was because he didn’t deserve that from Nancy, no matter how tense that relationship had been lately (or maybe always, how would Sylvie know? Her husband said so little about his past). He was such a good, sweet, caring man and to know that he'd been apparently uncared-for so long made Sylvie cry. Then the fact he was apologizing for making her cry made her feel worse. It took a little while to sort that out. The good news for the morning was that Chief Hatcher had called and said her new job at headquarters could wait a couple days, given her husband had been shot on duty. The good news for lunchtime was that Matt was being discharged that afternoon. She’d called Mom, told her to meet them at the house, not the hospital, and then did as promised and called Kelly. He and Stella (in her jeep, not Kelly’s sports car), came to pick them up. Matt had aftercare instructions to follow and antibiotics to catch any infection (they hoped), but he was at least going to be home in their bed that night. 

Matt had been gracious, mostly, about Mom and Dad staying for a few days. Sylvie had just been teasing him when she’d said Mom would give him a sponge bath (he couldn’t shower with the stitches in his side for a while) but the reaction had been worth it. He deserved to be tortured for scaring her. She would never have actually put Matt through that, but seeing his face for the ten seconds before she had reassured him that _she_ would be the only one helping him with that sort of thing was kind of hilarious. She’d taken some time to remind him that she was very territorial, and no one else was getting hands on him, uh-uh, no way, no how. Mom was there to take over some of the household stuff and help Sylvie, while Sylvie helped Matt. Dad was there to help take some of Matt's weight when needed because if she tried to help Matt got all pinched and annoyed. She wasn't sure he liked having his father-in-law help, but it was only for the first couple days anyway, and he apparently decided it was better than his 28-weeks-pregnant wife. He also submitted willingly to every wound check and anything else she asked or demanded of him. He was wonderfully compliant. She suspected it was Matt's way of trying to apologize for getting hurt and scaring her, while also doing his best to now lower her stress.

Still, it was nice, having her parents there while she helped Matt through the first couple days with his injury. Dad and Matt had a few sneaky conversations that made her a little suspicious, but it wasn’t worth investigating too much. Mom did all the cooking, and helped with some decorating for the nursery, and finishing off the registries for the baby showers (one in Fowlerton, one in Chicago, at 51). She also did a grocery store run, well, she and Dad both did because Sylvie had refused to let Matt go out near any infections and Matt had refused to let Sylvie drive herself and Dad refused to let Mom drive in the city. If she found a silver-lining or two in all of it, well, it was still having Mom and Dad there when she had to go to work for the first time and leave Matt home (he was 39 years old, sure, he could take care of himself he insisted, but leaving him when he was just a couple days passed ‘Casey was shot’ was _hard_ ) because she knew someone was there with him, just in case, just that first day or two; that, and seeing Matt sort of blossom under Mom’s fussing and Dad’s constant good-natured teasing about anything and everything. Matt thrived under positive attention, much as it also made him blush, and while it made her happy for her Matt, it also made her a little sad for younger Matt, who she was increasingly convinced had been deprived of approval from authority figures in his life. He seemed sort of fascinated by any relationship with Dad, like he wasn't quite sure how to handle a paternal(ish) relationship, but then, he wouldn't, would he? He'd never had that moment when his father recognized him as a grown man, not a boy any longer (Sylvie quietly suspected it was a weird thing Kelly and Matt bonded over - Benny Severide had never seemed to really acknowledge his son as an adult, either, who didn't need Benny's interference). Mom and Dad stayed until Friday, but then had to go back to Fowlerton. Sylvie had cried, seeing them off. She cried over everything right now. Matt had held her softly until she calmed, and then for a long while after that. She was content to stay in his arms, she thought maybe forever. If she just stayed right here, they'd both be perfectly safe. Actually, all three of them. It was irrational, she knew they couldn't do it, but if she was going to be a crying mess, at least Matt's arms were the safest place in the world to be a crying mess. Weren’t the hormones supposed to get better later in pregnancy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long explanatory note: One of the strangest things in the episode "Telling Her Goodbye" (the hostage situation in the Firehouse, season 5) was that at the end, we clearly see Matt staying at the firehouse with the rest of second shift. He was just SHOT, people. Shouldn't he see a doctor? Get some stitches? Some antibiotics for infection? I realize it's not as sexy/dramatic as the gangbanger kid shot in the neck, but still, he has a hole through his shoulder (more serious than Leon's injury in S1, but they took him to the hospital because that's what you do). That is a breeding ground for infection. His paramedic wife who is supposed to be all worried about him or whatever is suddenly just like "I'll hug him once, he'll be fine"? I know Gabby thinks she can do anything & cure everything on her own by Season 5, but seriously, he was shot. He needs a doctor, not his own one-handed patch job! (Casey does get some bad-ass points from me, though, for packing and bandaging his own shoulder one-handed) No one was worried about him at all after he was shot - Kelly is worried about Kidd in the bunk room, but not Casey? I mean, I get it, he's got a thing for Kidd, but Casey is actually known to be injured and...no one cares? It was strange to me. That, or the entire crew of House 51's second shift are convinced that Matt Casey is Teflon coated and will always be okay. So, in some ways, I've adopted the second (it's not that they don't care, it's that Casey is a magnet for trouble and he always comes out of it somehow, so they worry a little less) in my stories, trying to make them somewhat fit into the universe of the show, wherein Casey can get shot and be bleeding and no one expresses much concern about him, even after the crisis is passed.


	15. Happy Birthday, Sylvie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was a little on the shorter side for me, but this one is a bit longer to make up for it.

Matt went back to his regular shifts the week after he’d been shot. She had a feeling ‘light duty’ meant nothing to him, but for the sake of her blood pressure, she only called Stella to have an informant and enforcer on 81 rather than directly asking him about it because he was kind of a jerk if he thought she was fussing too much. She knew he didn't mean it. He just couldn't stand inactivity. He was antsy and aggravating and clearly in a bad mood by day 4 of enforced rest. One week after he was shot, he just went off to work like it had never happened. She had a crazy man for a husband. She also had mood swings like she’d never had before in her life. It was probably good that he was going back to work: her mood swings from pregnancy and his from inactivity probably wouldn't mix well long-term. So she was also kind of grateful that Matt had just laughed when she’d shouted at him that she’d kill him herself and save the anticipation if only the sex wasn’t so good.

Which it was. The sex was still fantastically good, if a little more careful. They’d had to get a bit more creative about positions because anything on her back was a definite no, and they had to be careful of his side. He couldn’t bend her over things and doggystyle on the bed had made her feel like a hippo or something – her stomach was just too low and fat and it made her self-conscious, which did not contribute to the mood very well. Her riding him was nice, definitely Matt’s favorite because he got a nice view of and plenty of time with his hands on her much bigger tits. It still made her feel like he was getting an eyeful of how fat she was now. He was wonderfully reassuring, that he found her incredibly sexy like this, but she didn't often feel sexy and attractive anymore. She felt a little inadequate next to her stupidly handsome and sexy husband.

And she knew it was a princess problem, but she wanted to look nice and sexy for her birthday dinner tonight and she did not feel _sexy_ in anything she owned that she could get on. She wanted something that would really make Matt crazy. Okay, that was a lie. Matt would happily have sex with her if she wore a literal garbage bag for a dress. He might like visuals, but he didn’t really need them. But she wanted to feel like she deserved it, like she was still sexy and deserved to have a man who looked like Matt with her and only having eyes for her. It turns out, with a little Google-aided research, there were shops in Chicago that specifically aimed at basically her: pregnant women who still wanted to feel sexy. So, she’d dragged Stella and Foster shopping with her. It took a few hours last week, but she had a sleek bright red off-the-shoulder but long-sleeved (hey, it was March still) dress that came to her knees but dipped nicely in the front to show off that new rack she was sporting. Her old bras were out, nowhere near the right size now, and she’d had to get a new one of those too. Maternity underwear was never particularly sexy, but she did at least find a pair that was red.

Matt had gotten used to her habit of kicking him out of the master bedroom and bathroom while she got ready for celebratory occasions. He’d already moved his stuff to the hall bath earlier that day. She supposed that was part of marriage, the fact that he chuckled, rolled his eyes, but went along with her quirks and even predicted them. They were going by Macy’s for the flower show (because she loved it), then out to Il Porcellino for dinner (because tortellini al forno), and then Matt had promised her a stop by Hoosier Mama Pies (because calories only counted if you weren’t pregnant). That is, she realized as she stepped out into the hall only to find her husband waiting almost impatiently at the top of the stairs, if Matt didn’t shove her back into their bedroom and go straight to her plans for the _end_ of the night.

“That is…definitely a new dress.” Matt remarked, unabashedly checking her out. She gave him a turn, enjoying showing it off.

“Yep. You like it?”  
“You know how I feel about you in red,” he pulled her against him, even though her back was currently to him. His hands wrapped around her bump, and her butt rested right against his crotch.

“Mmm-hmm.” She replied, putting just the right amount of teasing into her tone, and gave him just a bit of a wiggle. Just a hint for later. “We need to go.”  
  


She wasn’t sure what had gotten into Matt tonight, but he was playful and fun, as if they weren’t in public at all the whole night. Not that Matt wasn’t amazing to her any time, of course he was, but it was unusual for him to twirl her (carefully) along a sidewalk because she started humming along with the music from a store’s speakers, for example. Matt had a tendency to be self-conscious and hate having any attention drawn to him. That he was letting himself go a bit tonight added to the specialness of the night. Her dinner was fantastic, and so was the third or so of Matt’s that she ‘snuck’ from his plate. She made it up to him by choosing the chocolate chess pie for dessert, a whole pie, and then saying she wanted to eat it at home. Matt smiled and paid for the pie, and took her home.

She did actually insist on eating the pie. She wasn’t the chocoholic Matt was, but she did enjoy it and she cut one slice of the pie for her, then batted Matt’s hands away from both the pie and the slice.

“Wait.”  
“For what? We’re not doing candles in a pie, are we? You already cut it.”  
“No.” She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need a candle this year anyway. “I’ve already gotten anything I could wish for. A beautiful home, a healthy baby on the way, and the most handsome husband in all of Chicago.”  
“Two out of three ain’t bad.” Matt chuckled.

“You are a very handsome man, Matt Casey.”  
“I’m alright.” Matt shrugged. “Don’t give me that look, like I’m being self-deprecating. I’m a decent-looking guy, I’m not insecure or anything. But seriously, I know Kelly Severide. He’s had every woman in Chicago panting after him the entire time I’ve known him. Makes it hard to believe the ‘most handsome in Chicago’ bit.”

“Well, I think you’re more handsome than Kelly, so there.”  
“And believe me, I appreciate and enjoy your delusions. Now, can I have some pie or are you going to make me beg?”  
“Oooh. I _like_ it when you beg.” Sylvie felt herself getting wet at the sense memory of times she’d made him beg. He wasn’t all that loud usually during sex, but sometimes, oh, if you made him find his words, dragged it out the right way, he begged fantastically. She leaned forward, kissing him deeply. “I love it when I have you all hard and leaking and so close, oh so close, and you beg me for it.”  
“You in that dress has had parts of me sitting up and begging most of the night.”  
“I want to try something first.” She worried he would find this gross, but she had thought it would be really hot, given his usual reaction to things as richly decadently chocolate as this pie, which tasted like a gooey brownie in a pie crust. Matt just nodded slightly and raised his eyebrows, glancing towards the pie again. God, Matt Casey. Chocolate and sex and fires. That was pretty much his brain. Oh, and hockey (or some other sport if hockey was out of season). She took a smallish sized bite, then pulled him in for a kiss. He was surprised enough his mouth was open and she slid her tongue into his mouth, just happening to deliver the piece of pie as well. She felt him start, his whole body sort of jumped, but the chocolatey gooey pie sort of dissolved in their mouths as they kissed and she found it really damned hot. She pulled back, wanting to gauge his reaction.

“Matt?”  
“Not how I would normally choose to eat pie.” Matt smiled softly at her. “And we kind of made a mess of you.”  
“What?”  
“You’ve got…sort of a chocolate ring.” Matt pointed to his own lips to indicate. “It’s adorable, and hey, come here,” he pulled her into him, as she started blushing and turned away slightly, “I love you, Sylvie. If you’re worried you just grossed me out, you didn’t. If you want to keep feeding me chocolate gooey pie filling like that, that’s fine. But it’s not the neatest way to do things. Then again, I do like to make a real mess of you, don’t I?”  
“Something about mixing the taste of both you and that chocolate pie sounded really sexy.” Sylvie tried to explain. It had felt really sexy to her, too. She just didn’t want to push him, if he hadn’t thought it was hot.

“Honestly?” Matt smiled at her again. “I’d rather eat the pie then kiss you, share the taste that way. It was hot as fuck, don’t get me wrong.” Matt took her hand, gently placing it over his burgeoning erection. “But it’s also going to get really messy and take a lot of time to get through a whole slice of pie and I’m an impatient man. So, pie then sex, or sex then pie?”  
“Ever the romantic.” Sylvie chuckled. “Pie, then sex. If you think you can come through on that promise of trading me one kiss – with tongue – for every bite of pie I eat.”  
“Do I get any pie in this scenario?”  
“For every bite of pie I let you eat, I get two kisses – with tongue – somewhere a little lower after we go upstairs. Because it’s my birthday, not yours, mister. Do you agree to my terms?”  
“The sexy shit you say to me.” Matt shook his head, and Sylvie took his tongue in her mouth as an accord.

They took their time eating two slices of the pie. She fed him the bites he got, which she found really sexy actually, just the act of feeding him for some reason, though maybe that reason was partly that Matt made that sort of low growling noise for chocolate that he also made when he was eating her out and it was completely Pavlovian now, her pussy just got soaking from the sound by itself. They made out like teenagers between bites. By the time they finished the second slice, Sylvie was more than ready to adjourn this to the bedroom.

“Let’s go to bed, Matt.” She proposed setting the dirty dish and the fork in the sink. She’d take care of it in the morning. Or he would. Whoever had the time before heading to work. “By my math, you owe me 24 kisses.”  
“What happens if I don’t get you off in those 24?” Matt grinned at her, but took her hand and led her towards the stairs.

“Then, you’re a bad boy, and I get to spank you.” Sylvie slapped his ass, harder than she actually intended, and felt bad for a split second until Matt spun around, grabbed her, and kissed her hard and fast, his tongue swooping into her mouth and before she really knew it she was pinned against the wall at the base of the stairs, her legs wrapped around his hips, and their bodies crushed together as much as her belly would allow, while he practically tried to crawl into her mouth. He had one hand under ass, the other on her left tit, and she could feel his erection thrusting against her. She was panting for breath by the time he released her mouth, and then he was working his way down her neck and she arched against the wall, only just then realizing that he had somehow rucked her dress all the way up, so arching brought her underwear-clad pussy into glorious friction with the bulge in his pants, and she did it again, and again, and again because oh yes, that felt just right, and then Matt dropped her. Gently, but still, he dropped her. He’d never dropped her.

“Matt?”  
“Give me a sec.” He was still basically pinning her to the wall, but his forehead was now leaning against the wall over her left shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck this up in just a second, I need a minute.”  
“Gonna come already?” She grinned in amusement. She loved winding him up this much this quickly. It felt incredibly powerful. She lightly scratched her nails down his back, knowing he loved it, then firmly grabbed his ass with both hands. “You like when I spank you hard like that?”  
“Shit, Sylvie. Please. Give me a sec.”  
“You do. You gonna come just from thinking about it?” She hadn’t done much along those lines, worried that it came too close to childhood issues he wouldn’t talk about. She knew his dad had been overly fond of spankings for discipline, and she definitely did not want to remind him of any of that when trying to be sexy. Apparently, that was not an issue. “Take me upstairs, Matt. You have lots of work to do before you get to come.”

They made it upstairs, but there was a trail of clothing down the stairs and the short hall to the master bedroom. Most of it was Matt’s, only Sylvie’s shoes had yet been removed, but by the time her butt hit the edge of their mattress, Matt was naked, fully hard, and on his knees, and if she hadn’t already been soaking wet surely that image alone would’ve done it. He was also apparently very intent on his assigned task, because he quickly spread her legs, and dove between them, mouth already moving over her through her underwear. She enjoyed it for a moment, then tugged gently on his hair. He looked up at her in an obvious question.

“It doesn’t count as a kiss if lips don’t meet lips. You have a tally to work off.”  
“Fucking hell.” Matt groaned, his forehead resting against her thigh for a second. He recovered after that second, and she stood back up, quickly stepping out of her dress, well as quick as it was to get out of anything this pregnant, and Matt, still on his knees, happily pulled her underwear down, letting her step out of those as well. Then he sort of pushed her to sit down again, and she spread her legs for him. She thought, for a second, about how nervous she used to be about letting him do this for her, and now, she was so at ease with him that she didn’t mind, was in fact incredibly turned on, by the way he was pretty much licking his lips as he looked right at her most intimate parts.

“Twenty-four?”  
“Don’t try to cheat and get by with twenty-three.” She warned him airily. “I’ll be counting.”  
“Oh, no, baby, trust me. I won’t cut this short. But if you’re counting, remember that it only counts as one kiss until I come up for air.” Matt grinned at her, and before she could really process what that meant, his mouth was on her pussy and she nearly fell backwards, no easing her in, his tongue was in her pussy and how had this ever weirded her out? How had she not known how much they would both love doing this? How fucking fantastic it would feel? 

“One.” She said it aloud, as Matt’s tongue left her pussy and he moved up to pay attention to her clit. He nipped lightly at that sensitive little bud. “Your own rules, Matt, you came up for air – your lips technically left my lips and your tongue definitely diverted from, damn it!” He was back at her pussy, his tongue inside her again, and she knew there had been a definite flaw in this plan. He was too good at it. She should’ve given him fewer bites of pie because twenty-four rounds of this was going to leave her a drooling mess, she was going to come already, and they were only one two for fuck’s sake, why the hell did she have a husband who could hold his breath this long? The smallest gap, and she managed “Two.” Because she was going to be generous to herself and count as a coming up for air anything she could. She held on for as long as she could because his ego only needed so much of a boost but they still were only at six when her first orgasm slammed into her hard. He didn’t let up, not at all, and she almost forgot to count seven and eight, and by nine, she was trying hard not to come again, but at eleven, her body gave in again, and she was writhing against his face, and he pulled her almost off the bed as he just dove back in, and she couldn’t manage words but somehow managed a count in her head through twelve and thirteen, said “Fourteen” and then, a little more brainpower working for a moment, “how can you hold your breath this long still? Fuck me, Matt, fuck, your tongue…fuck!” She came apart again at fifteen, and it felt like she was still coming through sixteen and seventeen, and at eighteen she crashed again over a wave of pleasure and she felt an extra little gush of fluid and through the muscle-locking mind-blowing bliss of her orgasm she was horrified that she’d just peed on Matt’s face. He could call it something else all he wanted, but she was sure it was pee and she wildly but kind of gently (she hoped) slapped at his head.

“Stop, Matt, stop, please, stop.” He stopped, backing out by kissing and licking along her thigh, but keeping his hands beneath her and her knees over his shoulders because she was half off the bed at this point. She tried desperately to catch her breath.

“Sylvie? We’re only on eighteen, babe. You know how I feel about paying my debts.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t you dare.” She warned him breathlessly. “You put your mouth back on me and I will…do something you won’t like.”  
“You okay?” The teasing tone was gone, and he sounded actually a little concerned. “I didn’t hurt you or do something you don’t like or that bothered you, did I?”  
She tried to reassure him gently, so she sat up, wanting to more easily meet his eyes. “I didn’t plan this out very well, I kind of forgot how enthusiastic you are about that, and how stupidly long you can hold your breath. And I’m sorry about…oh, God, Matt. I…please go wash your face.”  
“What?”  
“Just…I can’t. Just go. It’s so gross. Please.”  
“Yeah, okay.” Matt helped her shift her weight back onto the bed; then stood and moved towards the bathroom. She kept her eyes closed, trying to not think about peeing on Matt’s face which of course just resulted in her thinking about it more. The baby was pretty much sitting on her bladder, so it wasn’t like it was her fault, he made her come too hard, but still, she felt so embarrassed by it. She heard the soft sound of running water in the bathroom for a minute or so. She opened her eyes just as he came back into the bedroom, a washcloth in his hand. She couldn’t help noticing his seriously flagging erection, and she subtly looked to the floor, trying to see if he’d jerked off while eating her out. She couldn’t see any evidence that he had. He knelt before her again, his blue eyes meeting her own and in a soft voice asked,

“I figure you want to clean up, would you allow me to…?”

“What?” It took her a second to realize he meant to clean her up, down there. Of course, yeah, you wiped after, so of course he’d think of that, Matt totally would be considerate like that. “I can do it, thanks.” She took the washcloth, wiping efficiently at her wet folds. He looked disappointed though how he could be disappointed about not having to wipe her up she had no idea. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t help him do things like wiping if he needed the help, but she’d never be disappointed not to do it. Her husband was sometimes a strange man was all she could figure. He did take the cloth back from her though, when she finished, returning it to the bathroom. She heard water running again, a little longer than she’d think just to wash out a cloth. He came back out a moment later, moving to his dresser and quickly slipping into a loose pair of boxers. He turned back towards her.

“Which pajamas do you want?”  
“Just my pants and one of your old t-shirts is fine. I can get it, Matt.” She pushed herself from the bed, sensing something was wrong.  
“No, it’s fine. I’m already up. Though if you want to brush your teeth, I guess-“

“Matt.” She reached out, catching his nearest wrist gently. “What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing’s wrong. Is it? Did I…are you...I-“  
“Hold on.” She cut him off. Sometimes her husband catastrophized, only ever when it was about something personal between them. He was cool as could be on the job, but in his personal life, he could be so incredibly sensitive and over-react to things – it was both endearing and sometimes frustrating. “Matt, why do you sound like you’re apologizing to me?”  
“Because…I fucked something up. Tonight. Just now.”  
“You? Only if you call making me come so hard I nearly black out ‘fucking up’.” She almost laughed at him. “Matt, that was incredible. And I expect you to pay me those last six indebted kisses some other night. Just not tonight. I’m way too sensitive right now to even think about any of the many wonderful parts of you going near my pussy or clit.”

“It wasn’t gross?”  
“No.” She couldn’t believe he thought she’d ever think him gross for doing that for her, oh. That. Shit. Damage control, Sylvie. You accidentally hurt him. She gently grabbed his chin, and he turned to fully face her. “Matt, I peed on your face. _That_ was gross. You doing that for me, that could never be gross or…or anything but perfect and loving and amazing. I love that you enjoy it, and I love that you’re so damned good at it. I love _you_.”

“I love you, too.” Matt kissed her softly. “And I’m finding scientific articles about female orgasms and that it isn’t pee, and you’re going to _read_ them. Because I do love doing that and I don’t really like being told my face is gross right after I’ve done it.”

“This face could never be gross.” She smiled warmly at him. “And I’m sorry I hurt you.” She realized something else, and felt even worse. “You didn’t come, did you?”  
“No. I was…it doesn’t matter.” Matt shook his head. “We both have work in the morning. Time for sleep. My girls need lots of rest.”

“You’re going to be incredibly disappointed if this is a boy, you know.”  
“Nope.” Matt smiled broadly at her. “Just means I have a fantastic son, and get to try again for my little princess. But I still think it’s a girl.”

She was halfway through brushing her teeth when she heard Matt curse from the other room. It wasn’t that she didn’t regularly hear him curse, but this was clearly frustration and not the happier sexy-times sort of frustration which was how she was used to hearing him curse in their bedroom. She finished up, and headed back out into the bedroom.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”  
“I forgot to give you your birthday presents. It’s your birthday, and I forgot the _presents_.”  
“Well, it’s still my birthday for…three more minutes.” Sylvie reassured him.

“I’m so sorry.” Matt kissed her forehead. “I meant to give them to you when we got home from dinner, but I got distracted.”

“It’s fine. Are they downstairs? We can go get them, or we can just open them in the morning.”  
“No, it’s your birthday and presents come _on_ your birthday.” Matt took her hand, and pulled her the few feet really down the hall to the nursery. “So I had a little help with this. I actually finished up a week ago, but I wanted to wait for your birthday, so the pieces were over in the basement at Molly’s. Otis, Herrmann, Mouch, and Cruz brought them over while we were at dinner.”  
“So they all saw my presents before I did.” She joked a little as they were stood before the door of the nursery.  
“Well, I didn’t wrap them.” Matt admitted. “And some people might even say it isn’t a proper birthday present, because you knew I was building this, but I do have a bit of a surprise involved.” He opened the door and quickly flicked on the light. She’d known when he brought her to the nursery that the rest of the furniture was her present, but it was still stunning in the completed room. The dresser matched the changing table and crib and bookshelves perfectly, both in style and color. The bassinet was just sort of in the middle of the room, since it wasn’t going to actually stay in the nursery but come into the master with them, but what caught her eye was that the wood looked a little different, it went beautifully with the other pieces, but it looked more weathered if that was the right way to put it. The rocker looked the same. She stepped towards it, running her fingers gently over the rocker. It was perfect, a Windsor style rocker with some very Mission aspects, all simple straight lines to match the simplicity of the rest of the nursery. There was no extraneous decoration, but she liked her furniture simple, not fussy, sort of Craftsman, she supposed.

“I had another accomplice in this. Actually, getting shot helped me out, let me finish before you slap me,” Matt held up his hands, she could not believe he was acting like getting shot could possibly be a good thing, “because it gave your dad an easy excuse to come up, and me a couple extra days off shift. When I was in the barn at your parents, building the arbor for Allison and Leo, I noticed this old wood carefully sort of stacked up. I asked your dad what it was for, and he said nothing really, but it was the salvage from an old barn on the farm.”  
“Oh, Matt.” She gasped, looking at the rocker with new eyes. And the bassinet, too. They were both clearly from the salvaged wood.

“He said the old barn was built around 1850, but was replaced when he was a boy. Your dad brought up the amount I asked for, and the bassinet and rocker are both made out of white oak, native not just to Indiana, but to the Brett family farm in Grant County – out of the barn that your four-times-great-grandfather built.”  
“Matt.” She didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t help starting to cry.

“I know this little one is ‘Baby Casey’, but she’s a Brett, too and I thought she could sleep her first months in a little bit of your family history.”  
“You.” She turned, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. “You. Just you.”  
“Are you crying?” Matt asked softly.

“Of course I’m crying.” She replied into his chest. “This is the sweetest most wonderful thing I’ve ever even heard of. You brought a part of my family into our home and you built it into something we can pass down to our children.”  
“I’m glad you like it.” Matt kissed the top of her head gently.   
“Oh, like it? No, Matt, _like_ it is not the word.” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. It’s perfect. Part of the farm here in our home. _Perfect_.”


	16. Easter Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is up a little later than usual, sorry - I had meetings all day for work.

She had her 32-week appointment with Dr. Nguyen on Good Friday. Then Dad was driving up to get her because she was going to Fowlerton for the holiday weekend. It was the last time she planned to leave the city until Leo and Allison’s wedding at the end of June. Some people might be happy to travel right up practically to the due date, but Sylvie was worried about pre-term labor. Maybe it was just paranoia. She had eight weeks to go to her due date, really. But Dr. Nguyen had been a little concerned about her amniotic fluid level and wanted to check a few things. The good news on that was that she had a new ultrasound showing the baby, perfectly timed to take to her mother. First, of course, she had to talk to Matt.

“How was your appointment?” Matt asked as he kissed her cheek, first thing as he met her at the door. He must’ve just gotten home from his new construction project, he was covered in plaster dust.  
“Everything is perfect. Baby Casey is still breech, but that is perfectly normal for this stage, should go head-down sometime in the next few weeks.”  
“Dr. Nguyen tell you how big Peanut is getting?”

“16.5 inches long and about 3.5 lbs, she said. A little on the small side, baby and I are both supposed to gain a bit more weight.”  
“You ask her about the leg cramps?”  
“Yes.” Sylvie smiled at him. He was such a worrier. “She said to try eating more calcium, so lots of cheese and yogurt.”  
“How’s your fluid level?”  
“A little low, just nothing to be worried about just yet. Though I know you’re worrying. You always worry.”  
“I’m not an expert on parenting, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be worrying about you and Peanut until the day I die.”

“Just remember, we’re worrying about you, too. So take care of yourself. I don’t like leaving you to go to shift tomorrow while I’m away. It feels like…I don’t know, like something will happen.”  
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”  
“Don’t. You can’t actually promise me that.” Sylvie knew that much, knew that there was no absolutely certain way to make sure he was always safe on shift. The nature of his job was such that there were going to be hazards and risks no matter what he did. “Just take care of yourself.”  
“I will.” He paused, “I promise I’ll even let Mouch lead into apartments from now on.”  
“Matt!” She slapped his shoulder. “That’s not very nice. But…I’d sort of like it if you did anyway. Oh, does that make me awful?”  
“No. It makes you a very loving wife, and soon-to-be-mother.” Matt paused, then pulled her into a hug. “If you think Trudy wouldn’t rather me get shot than Mouch, you’re kidding yourself. She likes me, just like you like Mouch – well, I think Trudy likes me. She at least doesn’t hate me.”  
“She likes you, but maybe just because she trusts you to keep Mouch safe. I guess I have to go upstairs and pack. Dad called. He’ll be here for dinner, then we’ll go straight back to Fowlerton, tonight. I feel bad making him drive such a distance back and forth in one day.”  
“I think he’s happy to get another weekend with you.” Matt kissed her softly as they parted.

She napped half the trip to Fowlerton. She felt bad, because it was evening, getting late actually, and her dad wasn’t as young as he used to be and she had meant to stay awake and keep him company. The problem was that growing a human was hard work and she was so tired lately, and sleeping at night was getting harder. She was uncomfortable much of the time. She had known by this point of course that she’d be off the ambulance, but she still missed the work. Her desk job was essentially 8 hours of paperwork and log filling, though much of it was digital now she still had to check through and make sure everything was filled out and closed out before it was officially archived. It was necessary work, but it wasn’t exciting or particularly interesting, but it kept her paid so she wasn’t yet taking medical leave. She was helping with a backlog, really, and it was expected to be cleared before she was scheduled to go on leave in mid-May. Once they pulled into the driveway, Mom was there to basically bundle her straight to bed and she couldn’t complain. She was exhausted.

She woke the next morning, newly enamored of the body pillow Mom had provided. She slept better than she had in some time. She’d always slept, well, always since they got together, slept cuddled up with Matt, and she’d not wanted to substitute in a body pillow for him because she always missed that comforting smell of him on nights he was on shift and she had the pregnancy pillow instead, but she’d found the happy medium, she thought. She’d brought one of Matt’s t-shirts from the dirty laundry, and with the pillow ‘dressed’ she’d slept incredibly well. Her baby shower was today, because that’s when Mom could get all the people in Fowlerton she wanted to be there to be available. That was this afternoon. This morning she had nothing to do but hang out with her parents. As she sat at the island eating breakfast, it struck her that this was the last time she’d be just her, with her parents.

“Sylvie, dear, are you alright?” Mom asked, coming by and seeing Sylvie had stopped eating and was crying a little. Everything made her cry right now it seemed.

“I just realized this is the last time I’ll be here before I’m a mom myself. I’m not ready to be a mom. I’m not together like you, Mom.”  
“Oh, Sylvie. Do you think I had any more clue than you do now when we brought you home? Your father and I were as terrified and excited and ecstatic as you and Matt are about this baby. If I seem ‘together’ now it’s because I’ve had a very long time at being a mom. You’ll get there, I promise.”  
“What if I stink at it? The problem with parenting is you never know until it’s too late, right? She comes home when she’s fifteen and yells she hates me. She’s got some inappropriate part of her body pierced. She’s got a boyfriend who’s twenty-one. Or an eating disorder. Or an addiction. And pretty soon we’re in therapy trying to save our whole family.”

“I think the fact that you’re worrying about all of that this early means you’re not going to stink at it.” Mom replied gently.

“So, it’s a girl? You and Matt both keep calling the baby ‘her’ and ‘she’.” Dad noted. He was in the family room behind her, opening weekend for baseball on the television. He wasn’t a huge fan of baseball, but he watched opening weekend.

“We don’t know yet.”  
“You just had another ultrasound. Couldn’t they tell?” Mom asked.  
“I asked them not to tell me, if they could see on the scan. If I know but Matt doesn’t, that’s unfair. And he really insists he doesn’t want to know. He’s hoping for a girl. I think I picked up the girl pronouns from him.”

“Have you started picking out names?”  
“We’ve talked about it. Matt says nothing that starts with the same sound as the last name – so basically no C or K names. He also isn’t very fond of names that end in the long-e because of Casey ending that way.”  
“He’s not picky at all, is he?” Dad chuckled.

“He says he’s scarred for life from all the ‘Christie Casey’ he heard as a child – his sister’s name was too alliterative.” Sylvie laughed lightly. “I agree with him on that, it really wasn’t a very good combination for Christie. It’s probably why she kept Jordan after the divorce. That and to share a last name with Violet, of course.”  
“Well, do you at least have finalists for names?”  
“Satisfy your mother’s curiosity. She’s been holding back on her suggestions for months.”  
“You have suggestions?” Sylvie asked, surprised by that. Maybe she shouldn’t be. She just hadn’t really considered that her parents might have sat around thinking about baby names.

“You were named after your grandmother you know.” Mom remarked.

“We thought about that, but Matt’s rules eliminate you and Dad both – sorry.” Sylvie was only slightly apologetic. She loved both her parents, but she didn’t much like Catherine Casey or Charles Casey. Well, Charles wasn’t so bad, but Charlie Casey wasn’t good, and she didn’t think Chuck would fit a baby of this generation. “And I wouldn’t even float the idea of naming our baby after either of Matt’s parents.”  
“What was his father’s name? I’ve never heard it.” Dad asked.

“Gregory. Same middle name as Matt – that is apparently a family tradition as well, James in the middle.”  
“So if it’s a boy, something James Casey.” Mom nodded, clearly musing aloud. Sylvie wasn’t sure Matt wanted to continue that tradition, but she didn’t mind it. She liked James, and it did flow well with lots of names so it was a good middle name. If Matt didn't like it, though, she wasn't about to push him on it. 

“I liked Lucy for a girl, but Matt wasn’t too keen on Lucy Casey.” Sylvie sighed.

“What about Lillian? You were nearly Lillian, after your great-grandmother.”  
“I think that would probably shorten to Lily and have the same problem – Lily Casey. Though that is better than Lucy, maybe it’s the harder sound. But Otis’ girlfriend, probably soon to be fiancée, is Lily, too.”  
“Do you and Matt have a list?” Dad asked. “That’s probably more important than all the dead relatives your mother can think of.”  
“Actually, we got kind of close with one of them. Matt really likes Lila for a girl. I like Gemma. Then we thought those might be a bit unusual, so there’s Olivia we both like, too, and Hannah. I love Abigail, but I’m _not_ sure about Abby Casey. We both like Sophia, but there’s some concern about it becoming Sophie. I like Vivian, but Matt isn't so sure. We haven’t narrowed it very much, I guess.”  
“I’m already happy with anything you pick.”  
“Dad, that’s like…half a dozen possibilities, just for a girl. For a boy, our list is even longer. I think we’re going to end up deciding we have to meet the baby to narrow it at all. We know what we _don’t_ like is about it.”  
“Your father is just worried you might pick something he can’t spell.”  
“I just want something I can say and write out for people with a straight face, not a grimace of apology. All these silly ‘unique’ names these days – Jackson with an x, who spells Jackson with an x? Then, oh, was it the Perkins girl? She named her child after a cloth pattern. Paisley. Why not name the poor girl Tartan or Plaid or Polka Dots?”  
“Dad.”  
“It’s ridiculous. If you want to name your daughter something she’ll be the only one in her class, try Mary. No one messes up the spelling, hardly anyone uses it anymore, and it’s short, simple, works with nearly everything. It’s not that hard. Then LaDawn, she named her newest ‘joy’ Maverick. Just go with ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ and be done with it.”  
“Well, at least I know how he feels in advance, in case we decided to go with ‘Ryker’.”  
“You’re not seriously considering that, are you?” Dad asked. “Because all I can think is ‘where’s Picard’?”  
“No, Dad, we’re not considering it.” Sylvie laughed heartily. “Matt’s niece suggested it.”  
“And that is why girls her age shouldn’t have babies. They name them silly things.”  
“That’s hardly universal, Chuck.” Mom pointed out, but she was smiling broadly.

“We promise to try to keep it pretty classic, Dad.” Sylvie reassured him honestly. “You sound like Matt anyway. He saw some baby announcement for a boy named J-a-x-s-o-n and he had at least a five minute rant about how redundant phonetically it is for an x and an s to be next each other. My contractor/firefighter husband ranting about phonics was pretty funny actually.”  
“I knew that boy had good sense. I like him.”  
“Well, I’m glad, because you’re stuck with him.” Sylvie pointed out. She thought of something, suddenly. “Did I remember to send you pictures of the rocker and bassinet he built out of the old barn wood?”  
“Yes, you did.” Mom assured her. “Your father saved it to his phone. I think it’s his wallpaper now. At least until the first baby picture arrives. He won’t admit it, but he was very touched that Matt wanted to include the Brett family history like that.”  
“It’s a good use for the wood, and Matt built nice furniture. He could go into business. Half a dozen people around would buy sets like that, I know for a fact.”  
“He knows because they’ve asked.” Mom said, as if imparting a secret. “He shows everybody, that and the ultrasound. Brags about Matt building that from the old barn wood; that his grandchild is going to be cradled in the Brett family legacy, literally.”  
“Hank Kemper would love to commission a crib and a bassinet, if Matt’s looking for work. He’s got a grandson on the way and some salvaged wood from that old house, you remember.”  
“Wasn’t that the old cabin that was falling down when I was a kid? You told us it was a death trap.”  
“The thing was built in 1840 or something, no one had lived in it since before the first world war, Sylvie, it _wa_ s a death trap. He finally pulled down the remnants about…five years ago. Kept what he could, stones from the hearth, some wood, things like that.”  
“I’ll talk to Matt, but I don’t think he has a plan to move into furniture design.”  
“Well, ask him.” Dad insisted. “Hank would be real happy to have it.”  
Sylvie promised she’d ask, but then promised herself silently that she’d find a way to do it that let Matt know that it was okay to say ‘no’ even if Hank Kemper _was_ Dad’s best friend since childhood. If Mr. Kemper’s only son, Tom, hadn’t been almost a decade older than Sylvie, she was sure her father would’ve dreamed up a match there. Of course, it turned out, she was married to a man just a year younger than Tom Kemper now, but when they were kids, that age gap seemed insurmountable. It was different, she thought, when you met when you were both adults. And eight years really _wasn’t_ that much.

The baby shower was entertaining. The best thing about being the mom-to-be was she got out of most of the games, being more the judge or an observer. Some of the old classics were trotted out, including the ‘guess what’s in the diaper’ game that Sylvie thought was utterly gross. The fact that she was going to have to change a lot of gross diapers in her future was not really something she was choosing to focus on. Pin the binky on the baby was actually sort of fun to watch, and Sylvie didn’t have to test her coordination because if anyone spun her around ten times right now her sense of balance was off she’d just fall over, and stay down. Shelly Waterman, who Sylvie had been close to way back in high school but hardly seen since going to Chicago sadly, won that one. She tried not to eat too many cupcakes, but Matt’s child was being demanding and wanting all the chocolate cupcakes. The last game was just sort of funny, because it was a Mommy-and-Daddy trivia game – and yet, these people had barely met ‘Daddy’ so Mom had sort of rigged it so Sylvie ended up talking about Matt after people’s guesses. Everyone was pretty close on the due date, and they all knew how she and Matt had met (at work). The color for the baby’s nursery threw most of the older ladies, who apparently thought ‘gray’ was too bland for a child’s room, which just led to Sylvie pulling out pictures (mostly those on Mom’s phone) to pass around and show everyone that it wasn’t dull at all, they just put all the color in the accessories.

“Where did you find that furniture, Sylvie?” Amber Tannin asked, “I love it.”  
“Matt _built_ it.” Mom answered before she could. “He built all of the furniture in the room, can you believe it?”  
“I thought he’s a firefighter?”  
“He’s also a contractor.” Sylvie replied. “He has a friend who builds furniture, let him use some space and equipment. I think he just…it’s like Y-chromosome nesting. He can be all manly and build things while I do the womanly thing and grow the baby.”  
“It’s very sweet.” Mom added helpfully.  
“Don’t call him ‘sweet’ he hates it.” Sylvie laughed. So did most of the other women. “He thinks it makes him sound like a little girl or something.”

“Okay, next question,” Mom got them back on track smoothly. “Write down your guesses on craziest food cravings during the pregnancy.” Sylvie waited until it looked like everyone was done writing. She didn’t think anyone had a chance of guessing this.

“I guess two things, one of which Matt very lovingly made for me, the other sent my firefighter husband, who usually has a stomach of cast iron, running for the bathroom when he tried a bite. The first was dark chocolate dipped bacon, with powdered sugar on top. I’m pretty sure I still have some at home, actually.” Sylvie thought Matt had made another batch on Thursday. It was fantastically good. At least to her taste buds currently. No one had guessed that, she could tell. “The second was mustard and pickles in cottage cheese.”  
“I got pickles and cottage cheese, does that count?” Mrs. Anderson asked.  
“Oh, that close has to count!” Sylvie replied. “Matt tried a bite and I think he puked for ten minutes straight. His attempts at solidarity don’t always work out.” The women laughed lightly, and quickly shared a few stories of their own about crazy pregnancy cravings (Sylvie was pretty sure that the avocado, chocolate, banana, peanut butter, whip cream thing sounded the weirdest).

“Next question. What was the first thing the couple did when they found out they were expecting?”  
“We cried. Matt, too. Full on cried.” Sylvie confirmed, but a lot of people guessed that one so it must not be that unusual. A lot of people got the right guess on how many more babies she and Matt wanted (two more – which made Mom happy, visibly). Then they got into the trickier ones, since no one knew Matt.

“My first word was ‘no’ wasn’t it, Mom?” Sylvie asked, getting a nod from Mom. “And Matt’s mother told me his first word was ‘doos peas’ which apparently was his version of ‘juice please’.”  
“Who is most likely to get up in the middle of the night with the baby?” Mom asked.  
“Definitely me. I have maternity leave, and he has to be on 24-hour shifts so, definitely me!” Sylvie admitted. “Plus, when he’s really asleep, Matt sleeps like the dead. He might sleep right through an actual alien invasion or something.”  
“How much did each parent weigh – and I know some of you know this for Sylvie.”  
“I was 8 pounds 1 ounce, right?” Mom nodded. “I’m pretty sure Nancy said Matt weighed five pounds 1 ounce.”  
“He was a tiny baby. Was he early?”  
“Not that I know of. I think he was just tiny. Nancy had a complicated pregnancy and delivery with Matt. It certainly didn’t hurt him in the long run – he’s fine now.” Sylvie smiled broadly. No one would really look at Matt as an adult and think of a tiny delicate little baby. They continued with the trivia for a little while, then opened gifts. Matt’s ploy, if you could call it that, to get neutral gear by not announcing the gender, worked: she got so much stuff in yellows and greens, but it was all adorable. She sent a picture to Matt of the most amazing baby quilt the Ladies Auxiliary had gotten together and made: all the fabrics were different firefighter patterns, with trucks and engines and fire hydrants and helmets and the florian cross logos, and the whole thing was navy and red, and she turned it over to see the gray backing, and she cried a little because the stitching, besides signing their work, the Auxiliary had stitched in it a short passage from the Bible: When you pass through waters, I will be with you; through rivers you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned nor will flames consume you. For a moment, Sylvie thought, this was for the baby but also for her – she knew firefighters died, she knew it, but she still found comfort in those words’ assurance somehow.

“We pray for him, dear.” Mrs. Bishop leaned over to tell her softly. “That God will watch over him, when all else fails him, and bring him home safely to you and this little blessing after every shift.”

“Thank you. Matt will be just as touched as I am – and just as grateful for the prayers.” Sylvie tried to gather herself a little. “I think it’s the only thing he prays for at all anymore, that me and our baby will be safe and happy and that he can come home to us for many years yet.”

“Now, I’ve only just met Matt, but from what I can tell of him – and I’m old enough to have learned how to read a person,” Mrs. Bishop reminded, as if anyone needed reminding, “that young man doesn’t need a thing in this world besides you and that baby – you’ve got a good one there, Sylvie. Take care of him, and let him take care of you.”  
“Oh, I plan to do just that.”

She was shocked on Sunday afternoon when Matt showed up to bring her home. She’d thought her father was driving her back up, but to get here by just before 2 o’clock, he had to leave relatively close to after shift. Still, she was happy to see him. She’d missed him, no matter how ridiculous it was to miss someone after just about 48 hours apart. She kissed him firmly right there on the front porch.

“Come inside, Matt.” Mom suddenly interrupted from just inside the screen door. “There’s some lunch left for you-“  
“That’s why you kept some sliced ham out!” Sylvie realized.

“-and there’s plenty of pie once you’ve had a sandwich or something at least. You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?”  
“I have to work tomorrow, Mom,” Sylvie started, but Matt gently placed a finger across her lips.

“I talked to Hatcher, you have tomorrow off so we can stay tonight and leave tomorrow. If it’s alright with you, Mom – we’d like to stay and have Easter dinner with you. Sorry I missed lunch, I wanted to catch Mass before I left the city.”

“Nonsense, Matt, don’t apologize for going to church on Easter.” Mom waved him off. “Have a sandwich, or two, and decide what kind of pie I should slice for you. There’s strawberry pie for after dinner, that’s Chuck’s favorite all through spring and summer, but I’ve already cut the lemon meringue and the pineapple pie, so there’s those and I could make something else if you’d rather.”  
“Mom.” Matt grinned, as they walked into the kitchen, and managed to catch her long enough to pull her into a hug as she got out things to make him lunch, even though they’d just tidied the kitchen from their own lunch. “You are going to spoil me rotten and make me fat. Don’t go to any trouble, I can make my own sandwich, I promise.”  
“Sit down, Matt. You’re sweet, but still too skinny from that silly swim in January – haven’t you stopped training, it’s been months?” Mom ordered, pointing at the seats at the island. “I’m making you lunch, and you are going to eat it. Just decide what you want for dessert.”

“He got talked into some mud-run obstacle course thing with the guys from the firehouse, that’s this summer.” Sylvie laughed. “So he’s just _switched_ training. And Matt, let her fatten you up a bit it’ll make her feel better.”  
“Alright, fine, I know better than to fight with the women in my life.” Matt laughed. “And to answer your question, Mom, I didn’t even know pineapple pie existed, so I’d like to try that.” He obediently sat where directed, and Sylvie took the seat next to him.

“I’m glad you came, baby.” Sylvie kissed him, more softly this time.

“Hey, Peanut, did you miss me, too?” Matt smiled, and leaned down to talk directly to her stomach. He did that a lot. Sylvie still thought each and every time was adorable and perfect. She glanced up at Mom, as she fixed Matt’s sandwich and Matt talked softly to her stomach, and realized that Mom found it just as endearing as she did – it looked like Mom was falling a little more in love with her son-in-law as well. Good. He deserved all the mother-henning, nagging, loving, adoration of a proper mother, and since Nancy wasn’t stepping up, well, Cathy Brett had plenty of ‘Mom’ to spare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be offended if you named your child Paisley or you can't spell Jackson - but my father had a rant like that and it made me laugh, so I reworked it a little and put it in here. It just seemed like the perfect 'Dad Brett' rant for some reason.


	17. House 51 Baby Shower

She had pretty much decided that she was ready to be done being pregnant. She felt like she was the size of a walrus. Everything ached by the end of the day, and thank God she didn’t still have 24-hour shifts to worry about. Matt dropped her off each day and insisted on arranging rides for her on the shift days that he couldn’t pick her up. Apparently public transportation was basically one big petri dish of contagion and he was not accepting that for his wife and child. Christie and Violet picked her up some days, took her out to dinner and once even for a quick pedicure with them. Other days it was Cindy Herrmann with a grab-bag of her kids. Donna picked her up once. Lily and Chloe took her out once, too. It was sweet and she didn’t feel too bad about inconveniencing people because it wasn’t that often – two out of three days, Matt picked her up. In the evenings he took her to mom-to-be yoga (he refused to participate, said he felt ridiculous in the yoga poses) and to swimming with him. She didn’t do anything like the number of laps he did, and she’d really had no idea how good of a swimmer he was, but it was nice to be active in some way still. It didn’t always help the walrus feeling, but she figured if anyone was actually judging her for being fat and pregnant, well, fuck them. Matt certainly didn’t mind. She had no idea why, but he still found her sexy as hell, he made that obvious. He had gotten more verbally affectionate in the last couple weeks, not that he’d ever failed to say it, but every day, multiple times a day, he assured her that he thought she was beautiful, that she was sexy, and of course, that he loved her and was amazed by her. He wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, she knew that, but she still felt like he couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. All she saw in the mirror was her belly. And hair on her chin. She liked Matt’s beard, but she didn’t want one of her own. Dr. Nguyen assured her it was normal, and that waxing was fine (so she’d done that).

Her physical discomfort was ticking over into her marital life, and she hated it, too. Sleeping with Matt had given way to sleeping with the body pillow, with one of Matt’s t-shirts from the dirty laundry because she still slept better with his smell nearby (not a gym shirt, or a work shirt, those made her gag, just worn, lightly used sort of), but he wasn’t nearly cushiony enough in the right ways or places. They’d tried having penetrative sex last week, and nope, not happening. She didn’t know if she was actually ‘tighter’ down there now, but it had hurt. Not like the usual pang and then she stretched and it felt great, it _hurt_. So that was out. She’d never really given him many (or very good) blow jobs. So that was out. Her boobs hurt and she was starting to leak fluid (colostrum, no milk yet, not until the baby was born, but still, she felt gross and she didn’t want him to touch them). She came incredibly quickly when he ate her out, and after one orgasm she was usually too sensitive to continue on and it was like her brain went straight to ‘no sex’ mode _right_ after, so while her sex drive remained relatively high, the quality of their sex life was not great. She felt bad about it, but she didn’t know what to do about any of it. Matt insisted he was fine, but she still felt bad.

She felt worse about the mood swings. They really hadn’t been too bad until this last trimester, and each week it seemed like her hormones and moods just got crazier. She sobbed over ASPCA commercials and might’ve given her life savings to the Feed the Children commercials just to get them to stop making her sob, too. The nightly news made her angry. She had thrown a literal fit over a baseball game last week, though that call had been really bad (Matt backed her up on that) her reaction was kind of ridiculous. He’d laughed, and she’d thrown a book at him. Thankfully he had good reflexes or they might have been explaining a bruise for the rest of the week. He’d apologized for laughing, but she knew it was funny – she didn’t even like baseball that much, or even understand all the finer points and rules, and she had been cursing up a storm over that call against the White Sox. She yelled at him for making the wrong dinner one night, she wanted something else. How many wives would kill for a husband who cooked like hers did, and who took over the household chores so willingly, and she’d yelled at him for making her dinner. It wasn’t like she’d told him ‘I want spaghetti’ and he’d made something else, she knew it was ridiculous. Matt just quietly made spaghetti, after a whole separate dinner he’d already made. She cried, feeling guilty about it, and that made him feel worse, because he’d thought he’d done something wrong again, then she felt worse about that, and it had taken half the evening to sort out everyone’s feelings. She knew she was putting him through the ringer.

That didn’t even include the birthing classes they attended. Some of the couples there were first-timers, like them, and others were refreshing for second and third births. The instructor took them through the stages of labor, helped them learn breathing techniques, coaching techniques for the partners, and helped them put together a birth plan. Matt had left all but one decision up to her: if the baby was a boy, he was _not_ to be circumcised. Matt had quite strong feelings about that, and given he wasn’t, and he actually had a penis, Sylvie felt it was fair enough for him to make that decision, not her. Everything else, Matt helped her talk through decisions, but basically just backed her calls on everything from did she want an epidural (yes) to did she want ‘kangaroo care’ (yes) and was anyone else going to be in the room besides Matt (yes, just Mom). Then came the ‘ringer’: husbands got to try a labor simulator. Sylvie hadn’t been all that keen on controlling the remote for Matt’s try at it. Matt had wanted to try it, she wouldn’t have asked him to. She knew it was going to hurt, he knew it was going to hurt, and she didn’t actually want to hurt him. She’d only gotten the machine up to level 7 (out of 10), before she insisted on checking his injury. Sure, he’d been shot six weeks ago, but that was still just six weeks ago and she didn’t think putting his abdominal muscles through this was the best idea. He’d gotten one of the other women to ramp it up to 10, and she was simultaneously strangely proud that he had not screamed like the other guys and had insisted that it be cut short because watching his abs pull like that across that fresh scar terrified her. He insisted he was fine, but she didn’t like it. She didn’t like knowing he was in pain, and she _really_ didn’t like knowing that he could be in pain so quietly. He didn’t have anything to prove to her, but he always seemed to have something to prove to himself.

She tagged along on Matt’s shift on the 18th. It was Sunday, so she had the day off, and Cindy had picked that day for the House 51 baby shower. Sylvie had dutifully provided a list of all the things she’d gotten in Fowlerton, though there really was no way to have too many onesies, at least not according to experienced moms (like Cindy). She’d catch a ride home after the shower with Cindy, whose parents were taking care of Kenny today while Cindy trusted the oldest kids at home ‘alone’. The good thing about the ‘firehouse family’ baby shower was that there weren’t going to be a lot of games. After all, most of the people present were guys, who weren’t all that interested in the games, just the snack food and celebrating Baby Casey. They also took great delight all morning in complaining about the still hidden gender and baby name. Sylvie was pretty sure this poor child was going to be known as Peanut for the rest of its life, at least among people at 51. Still, she was excited, after lunch to get to open more presents, and to actually have Matt with her for this baby shower. It was also just plain nice to be back in 51 again, even hearing the bells was kind of pleasant. Typically, the planned start of the party was delayed when 81 and 61 got called out to a car accident. Sylvie used the opportunity to pump Donna and Cindy for new-baby tips.

“I have six weeks to set up anything I absolutely have to have in the first few days, ladies. Hit me with your best new mom advice.” Sylvie didn’t even try to be subtle about her quest for help. She was all about asking for help when you need it, and she needed it. She was pretty sure all first-time moms were a little scared and a lot overwhelmed as D-Day approached.

“Have help. And I don’t mean your husband.” Donna said just as bluntly. “He is going to be a lot like Wallace, I can already tell. He’s gonna put his shoulder into it. That’s great, but you need help from someone who has been a mother, trust me, because you are going to wonder if you’re doing the right thing every other minute.”  
“Remember, I’m always nearby.” Cindy volunteered. “Is your mom coming up? What about Matt’s mom, or sister?”  
“Nancy is a definite no.” Sylvie knew that immediately. “Matt said ‘no’ when I asked about inviting her to the hospital or the house to stay. And he’s right, I’m just not comfortable enough with her to really…rely on her. My mom is planning to come up and stay for a couple weeks, actually, my dad for a little while, but he doesn’t want to leave the farm for that long. They’ll be in the basement apartment, Mom will have her own space, but be right there to help, too.”

“That will be so great for you and for her.” Cindy assured firmly. “A little bit of privacy for you and Matt and the baby, but she’s right close by.”  
“When his week or so of leave is up, send your husband back to work.” Donna was firm on that point as well. “He’s going to be enthusiastic, he’s going to be a wonderful father, we all know that, but he is not going to be a good at-home parent. He’s used to two jobs, expecting him to do zero will leave you with too much husband and him with too much time.”  
“Won’t he feel cut out if I tell him to go back to work?”  
“Routines. Tell him it’s all about routines. Because it is.” Cindy insisted. “The baby needs bedtime routines, eating routines, not a schedule, just routines, and so do you. Trying to create some sense of normal times.”

“You have a bassinet, you’re all set to keep the baby sleeping next to you, that’s key. Not in the bed with you.” Donna warned. “That can be dangerous. Minimal bedding.”  
“Sleep sacks.” Cindy nodded. “There may be a few wrapped up in those boxes.”

“Enjoy coffee. Don’t fear it. Embrace the return to caffeine, you’re going to need it.”  
“Trust your gut. You know your body, you know your baby, and don’t be afraid to call your doctor about any concern with a brand new baby. They are used to it.”  
“Use the hospital nursery.” Donna said, almost suddenly like it had just come to her. “Get some sleep while you know that there are qualified nurses with that baby overnight. They will bring him or her to you for feedings in the night if you ask, but you won’t wake up to every little noise. Get sleep when you can.”  
“Take care of yourself. Eat well.” Cindy added. She paused, then added, “Pump. Don’t be afraid to pump and let Daddy take feedings in the middle of the night. Oh, and he is going to be terrified of the baby.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You know I love Matt to death, but he is a firefighter and a contractor, and I’ve seen him with children from toddler up, and he’s fantastic. I tried to hand him Kenny and he reacted like I was handing him the core of a nuclear bomb.”  
“He did not.” Sylvie could not believe that. Matt loved children.

“He was terrified.” Cindy was laughing lightly. “It was clear he had no idea what to do with an infant.”  
“That’s so true. I didn’t realize it, but you’re right. He was the same way with Terrence. About five, six months old, all of a sudden, Matt was fine with holding the baby, before that…you’d think I was expecting him to hold an ancient Greek vase or something from a museum.”  
“He’s going to be scared he will break the baby.” Cindy was still laughing. “Chris was with Lee Henry at first. These big tough firemen, they’re not used to tiny things. They overthink it.”  
“Are you doing kangaroo care?”  
“After suctioning.” Sylvie nodded. “I want her or him on my chest really quickly. Our doctor is really encouraging about that. Then after about twenty or thirty minutes, they’ll weigh and clean the baby, all of that, and then Matt will get some skin to skin time. Dr. Nguyen said that’s important.”  
“Good, he’ll get to get used to holding and touching the baby with the professionals in the room, that should help him.”  
“The best advice I got from my mother,” Cindy leaned in, “wake the baby to feed her just before _you_ want to go to bed. Should help you get a good 2 or 3 straight hours, instead of the baby wants more ten minutes after you finally get to sleep.”

Truck got back about an hour after they left. Squad had gotten called out about ten minutes after Truck, and weren’t back yet, but Kelly and Joe had insisted it was fine to start without them. Sylvie didn’t think either one was that keen on baby presents, though both seemed really excited about the baby. The only serious delay was caused by Matt, who sat next to her, leaned in to kiss her and she pulled sharply away.

“You smell like gasoline.”  
“That would be from the car wreck and the resultant small gasoline fire.” Matt said as if it was obvious. Which it was, but still.

“You cannot sit next to me smelling like that. Did you roll around in the gas?”  
“No, but he did nearly get burned when it went up.”  
“Not helpful, Otis.” Matt shot back. He stood back up. “Do you want me to go shower or just sit across the room?”  
“Shower.” She’d prefer to have him next to her. “Just hurry before you get another call.”  
“It’s your sensitive nose, not mine.” Matt reminded, but did walk rather quickly towards the locker room.

“Sorry guys.” Sylvie shrugged to everyone. “He smells. It’s gross.”  
Matt was back, hair still wet, in four minutes flat. He smelled much better. If he was a little damp at the edges, she didn’t care. Finally, she could lay into the presents. As always, their firehouse family had been generous. Matt’s main job was to keep track of who got them what, because even though most of the people were present to be thanked, not everyone was and she wanted to send out thank you cards anyway. Several boxes of diapers were present, in three different sizes. Matt had been a little baffled by that (so had quite a few of the guys). Cindy had very helpfully explained that as babies grew, they needed larger diapers, just like they needed larger clothes – so yes, diapers came in sizes, and a baby might rapidly go from size 0 to 1 to 2 as it gained weight. Sylvie loved the foldable infant bathtub so she could use any sink in the house easily, plus it would travel well, like to Leo’s wedding at the end of June. Cindy had also gotten her a ‘one line a day’ journal for the baby’s first five years.

“This little one is going to be starting kindergarten before you know it.”  
“Nope. Peanut is staying my little peanut.” Matt insisted with a laugh. “She’s not going to do what Annabelle and Violet did, turn into teenage girls interested in boys. Not happening.”  
“Sure, Daddy.” Sylvie rolled her eyes, but kissed him softly. Matt opened the next package, and Sylvie looked over his shoulder.

“That is an aspect of parenting I did not anticipate. Sucking snot out of their nose.” Sylvie shook her head. “I’m glad neither of us is easily grossed out.”

It turns out firefighters aren’t big on cute onesies or baby blankets. They focused on useful gear. Still, Sylvie loved the foldable highchair, which was a gift from of all people, Tony, who just shrugged and said his sister had gotten one and raved about it. There was a diaper pail, a baby wrap, a white noise machine, a UV sterilizer (Otis had clearly done some research, announcing you could sterilize baby toys and even your phone in it, anything the baby might touch) and from most of the guys, a really cute pack-n-play, which explained the rather large item that had been out. Everyone had brought a couple books, too, which was really great – they had a nice library going already. Just before Sylvie called it, Mouch held up a hand, after glancing at his phone.  
“Trudy just got here.”  
“Okay.” Sylvie nodded, and sure enough, here was Trudy with another box in hand, and the entire contingent of the Intelligence unit, including Hank Voight.

“I don’t like speeches so I’ll keep this short.” Trudy announced firmly. “We all contributed and used a few of the CPD resources in order to get for your child the best gift we could possibly give him or her.” She handed the box to Matt, who looked a bit surprised as he accepted it.

“I guess I’m supposed to open it?” Trudy shot him a look that clearly said he was an idiot for even asking. Matt shrugged a little, and opened the box. He shook his head and chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be offended, guys.”  
“We thought the best thing we could get Baby Casey is a little protection for you.” Halstead said with a grin. Sylvie went to look into the box, but Matt pulled out and held up, yes, that was,

“You got my husband a bulletproof vest?”  
“Ballistic vest, rated for handguns.” Trudy corrected.

“Light enough he can actually wear it under his turnouts.” Ruzek added.

“It does get a little hot and uncomfortable.” Atwater chimed in, too.

“Hell, we already wear seventy pounds of gear into a fire, you got him more gear to wear?” Kelly asked, laughing lightly.

“Since he can’t seem to keep himself from getting involved in police incidents, he needed police-grade protection.” Trudy stated. “I have no intention of letting him get himself killed before that baby is grown. Or Randall retires. Preferably both.”

“I love it.” Sylvie laughed, and dared to pull Trudy into a hug. “Thank you, all of you. I’ll make him wear it, too. Matt, that goes in 51, and you are wearing it! No more getting shot, mister.”  
“You’re not seriously-“ Sylvie spun and faced him, a finger pointing at him, and he held up his hands, “I’ll got put it in the truck right now.”  
“I’ll show you how to put it on correctly, and quickly.” Voight volunteered, and followed Matt out to the apparatus floor. Sylvie had no idea how she was ever going to explain to anyone else why it was both hilarious and very fitting that the most memorable gift at her baby shower was a ballistics vest for her husband, a contractor and firefighter. Only Matt Casey.


	18. D Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been really busy, so I haven't had my usual time to proof and fix this chapter as many passes through as usual - I hope I caught all the errors. I also, more importantly, hope it lives up to expectations.

She had decided to take maternity leave starting two weeks before her due date. This was mostly for two reasons. First, she was sick of trying to work while feeling the size of a house. She barely fit behind the desk. Second, she was somehow certain that she was not actually going to make it all the way to her due date. Julie’s pregnancies were both early, but both were complicated by age: on the young end for her and on the quite old end for Amelia (not too many moms gave birth with a thirty year gap between oldest and youngest). Matt was not taking leave until the baby was born. He got three shifts of leave with the birth of a child; that was all. Anything else, he had to burn through his furlough which she didn’t want him to do for selfish reasons about keeping it for holidays and things later in the year. CFD policy changes a few years back had kept Matt from saving up his furlough (you could roll over only a bit of furlough each year). Because they had the same employer, any FMLA time Matt took for the same event (birth of a child) was a day that Sylvie could not take for that event. So, basically, that was why Mom was coming up May 22, for a June 1 due date. She had been feeling practice contractions off and on for a couple weeks. It was getting close. They were about to meet Peanut. And give the poor child a name _other_ than Peanut.

Christie picked her up for her last expected pre-labor spa appointment after work on May 12. They were having facials, massages, and pedicures (and Sylvie was having a wax, purely out of vanity since people were going to be staring up there quite a lot in just a few weeks), so she had left a little early, they would pick up Violet from school, then hit the spa and have dinner together. It had become something of a tradition for them, and Sylvie loved it. She sort of had an adult sister in Christie, and Matt was pleased to be spending (even peripherally) more time around his sister and niece as well. Sometimes, Sylvie could get more information out of Christie about Matt’s childhood than she could out of Matt. Like that he’d spent more time with their father’s old Erector sets than any other toy Christie could remember or that his favorite cartoons had been Transformers and Voltron. Sylvie liked knowing those things. Christie had also managed to dig up some childhood photographs of Matt, though she admitted to not knowing why there were so few pictures of Matt in the albums she had. It was all much appreciated, though. Violet laughed about some of the stories about her uncle, too.

She wasn’t feeling very well by the end of dinner. She brushed it off as more practice cramps, getting the baby into the correct position for birth in a couple weeks. She realized by 9 o’clock that this was not practice. Of course. Matt was on shift. She started timing her contractions, hoping that they stayed spread out so Matt could be home. She didn’t want to call him. She also didn’t like doing this without him. The house felt awfully big and empty. He was on shift and it might be, probably would be, plenty of hours between the start of labor with a first baby and actual childbirth. Her water hadn’t broken yet. She was just having contractions. Regularly. She tracked and she paced and she worried. At 10 o’clock, hating herself just a little, she called her mother, even though it was 11 in Indiana and she had to wake them. Mom had reassured her, reminded her of how long first labors took (how would Mom know, she’d never had a labor?!) and said they would drive up first thing in the morning and come straight to the hospital unless Sylvie called to say she was still at home in the morning.

She was supposed to stay home and rest, that’s what all the advice books said. They said to enjoy the time you could eat and be in your own bed and just count contractions, unless and until your water broke or your contractions become regularly five minutes apart. Then head for the hospital. Sylvie called Dr. Nguyen’s answering service just before midnight. She wasn’t sleeping anyway. She was scared and overwhelmed, but didn’t want to wake anyone. The baby was early though. 17 days early. Matt had been early, hadn’t he? Clearly this was his fault. His genetics. She’d been early, too, but her mother was sixteen. Matt’s wasn’t. So this was clearly his child. The answering service also reassured her that she was not in any real risk of delivering her baby by herself in her kitchen. She did make sure to have her hospital bag completely ready to go, put everything together by the door. She paced. She tried to nap, but contractions made it shockingly hard to sleep. At 3 am, her contractions were less than five minutes apart and 1 minute in duration. She called the answering service, who told her that Dr. Nguyen had left standing orders for her to go to the hospital at that point. She called 51, there was no answer. She called Matt, no answer. Shit. Fuck. They must be on a call. Matt kept his phone practically at his ear when he was away from her right now, unless he was on a call. There was no point calling Stella, she’d be on the same call. She didn’t technically need an ambulance. Donna and Cindy had small children and husbands on the same shift as _her_ husband. So, she got an Uber. Not wanting to leak all over an Uber driver’s car, she put on a heavy-duty pad, grabbed her bag, and when it told her the driver had arrived, she went outside. Paul, the driver, was a very nice young university student who put her bag in the trunk nicely, then nearly freaked out when she said to take her to the maternity department at Chicago Med. She laughed, told him she wasn’t going to give birth in his car, but her husband wasn’t home and she needed to go to the hospital. Paul, who she made sure to send a very nice tip on the app, left his flashers on and walked her into the hospital personally and made sure she was being shown into a room before he left. Paul was nice. She was going to have to leave him a very nice review.

The nurses were the sweetest, kindest, most patient souls Sylvie swore she had ever met. They didn’t seem to mind at all how much she cursed through contractions. They walked with her on her passes through the maternity ward. They read through her birth plan and listened to her concerns and her fears and what she wanted. They sympathized with how much she mostly just wanted her husband and right about the time a contraction hit, she was more in the mood to grab his balls, squeeze and twist as she was to do anything else, but she still just wanted him here.

“Sylvie?!” She was back in her room when Matt almost literally skidded into the room. She glanced at the clock. It was 5 am. At least he wasn’t still in his turnouts.

“I’m alright. Peanut is still in the shell. You haven’t missed mu-uch.” She barely finished as another contraction hit. Matt was at her side in what seemed like a split second, arm around her waist and oh, yes, there it was. That smell. Why the smell worked, she had no idea, but she leaned into his neck and breathed him in and somehow felt instantly better, safer, less scared. Matt was here and he would take care of her. Even if this whole thing was his fault.

“This is your fault.”  
“Just mine?” Matt asked softly, a hint of laughter in his tone.

“ _Your_ baby is impatient, just like _you._ Ready a little early to meet us.” She tried to breathe through the contraction. Matt kept her steady. Once the contraction cleared, she met the gaze of her nurse, Lisa. “Lisa, this is my husband, Matt Casey. Matt, this is Lisa, my dear new friend who is my labor nurse, my lead nurse, there’s a whole team, and there’s shifts, but for now, she’s stuck with us.”  
“Nice to meet you, Lisa.” Matt smiled distractedly, keeping most of his focus on Sylvie. “I’m sorry it took so long. There was an incident at a night club and…then I got your text, so I’m sorry I’m sweaty. 81 brought me straight here, I peeled my turnouts in the truck.”  
She looked down, and realized he didn’t have shoes on. He followed her gaze.

“My boots are with my turnouts. The others are on the apparatus floor.” Matt shrugged.

“You know I’m probably not going to give birth for hours, Matt?”  
“I know you’re here, in pain, laboring to bring our child into this world and I can’t do it for you, the least I can do is be here for as much of it as possible to help or…hell, just for you to scream at and blame for doing this to you.”  
“Yeah, well, when the next contraction hits in a minute or two, you might want to move your boys farther from my reach.”

“Why?”  
“Because your boys are the reason I’m in this mess and I’m a pretty vengeful person right now, Matt.”

She had known, but still not been entirely prepared for the reality of leaving your dignity at the door of a labor room. More people had seen more of her body today than she had every really thought would. The hospital’s L&D room was very nice, and she was glad she’d had a tour weeks ago, but still, it seemed like an awful lot of nurses and techs were in and out and she was already sick of having someone check her cervix. By shift change at 7 am, she was to 6 centimeters. Dr. Nguyen came in then, and Sylvie knew it was getting closer to time. She was tired and contractions sucked and she was putting off an epidural because she knew that keeping moving was good for labor and for positioning the baby. She had come in pretty much dressed for delivery, grateful it was a lovely warm spring, and she had her bag, but so far she hadn’t needed much out of it except hair ties and chapstick. She wasn’t worried about anything else. She knew later, particularly after the baby came and she was here for a couple days, she’d want those items but she was in her own clothes (mostly – a robe, a nursing tank top, no underwear for obvious reasons, but her own house shoes). Matt was still in his uniform because her bag did not include anything for him. That was a bit of an oversight. Then again, he could go home (he wouldn’t but he could). He could also eat.

“Matt, was that your stomach?” She asked, in between contractions when she was leaning into him and she was pretty sure even the nurse across the room had heard that. “It sounds like an alien is about to erupt from your gut, not mine!”  
“Lunch yesterday was a while back. It was a busy shift.”  
“We packed snacks.”  
“For you. I’m fine.”  
“Matt, I am going to be hungry angry and moody enough for like five people today. We do not need to add your hangry self to it.”  
“I’ll eat when your parents get here and Mom can take over with you, okay?”  
“Mom wasn’t leaving Indiana until this morning.”  
“She texted.” Matt gestured to her phone which was on its (extra long) charge cord at the moment, not in her hand, because there was nothing about this stage that needed documenting really, except the fact that she apparently cursed a lot when she was in pain. “She woke your dad at 5 their time. They should be here by 8 our time.”

“Okay. Good. Mom being here is good.” She breathed through another contraction, keeping her eyes on Matt who was breathing with her, the calm slow breathing that kept her muscles as oxygenated and relaxed as possible. He was also holding a lot of her weight because she was exhausted and if there was one person on the planet she most trusted to catch her and carry her when she had nothing left to give, it was Matt Casey. She thinks she felt that way even _before_ she acknowledged she was in love with him. Matt was just that kind of guy. She opened her eyes, meeting Matt’s eyes immediately.

“You are doing great, baby. You amaze me, you know that?” He brushed back a bit of hair that had somehow dropped into her face. “How’s your back feel? I’m no masseuse, but you’ve never complained about a backrub yet.”  
“Oh, I would love a backrub.”  
“It seems strange, but one of the best place we’ve got for that is the toilet, facing backwards.” Their new lead nurse, Callie, informed them with a smile. “For some reason, the positioning of your body just seems to work well during labor.”  
“I don’t care where I’m sitting.” Sylvie admitted. “Callie, you would not believe how amazing this man’s backrubs are. He has really strong hands, gets all the knots out.”  
“Relaxing is good. This is your first baby, so labor could be a few more hours yet, okay?”  
“I know.” Sylvie reassured her, having done her research. “As long as this baby isn’t like his father, we’ll be alright.”  
“I take it that was a long labor?”  
“38 hours – active labor, according to my mom.” Matt replied, looking a little chagrined. “She used to say she was ready to jump out the window by the time I actually arrived.”  
“Well, we don’t really allow women to labor that long these days.” Callie assured Sylvie evenly.

“I don’t want a C-section.”  
“That’s a last option, really. We have a lot of other tricks to try first if your labor stalls, but for now, it’s just moving slowly, not unusual in first-time mothers.”

At 8:15, her parents arrived. Dad looked excited but also a little like he didn’t really want to be in the labor and delivery room. Mom rushed in to give her a hug, but waited until Sylvie had stopped clinging to Matt through a contraction at least to deliver that hug. Sylvie had ordered Matt to go get some actual breakfast. Matt’s phone pinged at that moment, and he laughed.

“Kidd and Severide are in the waiting area. They brought me breakfast and my bag from the house – including shoes.”

“I was going to ask about the fact that you’re in just your socks, Matt.” Mom admitted.

“I came straight from call. The boots go with the turnout pants, and my other boots were on the apparatus floor so…” Matt shrugged lightly. “Syl, if you’re okay with Mom, I’m going to go grab my stuff and some food.”  
“I’m sorry I forgot to grab your stuff.”  
“Syl,” Matt kissed her forehead softly. “You are bringing our baby into this world. Of all days, this is the time it is absolutely always okay to be solely focused on you, got it? _I’m_ sorry I was on shift and you had to do a lot of this on your own. Don’t worry about it. Severide was probably looking for something to do to burn off his own energy anyway. I’m going to go eat someplace that isn’t right in front of you, since you apparently can’t eat anything once you’re here. I’ll be back in a little while.”  
“I don’t think you’re going to miss anything.” Sylvie admitted. “We got a while left to go with this. Take Dad with you. I don’t want him in here when they check my cervix or something.”  
“A grandpa’s place is in the waiting room.” Dad agreed immediately. He hugged her softly. “I love you, baby girl, you are amazing, you have got this, but I am perfectly happy to wait it out somewhere else.”

“Okay, Sylvie,” Callie looked up at her, after yet another check on her cervix at just after ten o’clock. “Your progress has slowed, and we’re still not really past seven centimeters. So, Dr. Nguyen is going to come in, and offer you some Pitocin to help speed things up a little bit, since your water broke. Or, a little nurse’s trick I picked up, is that we stimulate the production of oxytocin – Pitocin is a synthetic version of that natural hormone – in a more natural way. This is a little awkward, but I have seen it work several times.”  
“I like natural. We, I mean, once we hit eight centimeters, that’s when I decided I wanted the epidural. Dr. Nguyen said that’s fine, I wanted to leave it kind of late, but we need time to let it work before I’m actually ready to push or it’s pointless. So, the natural way you recommend is….?”  
“Mom and me are going to step out of the room – I’ll put a sign up on the door to give you guys about twenty minutes or so of privacy. I’ll get Dr. Nguyen to order your epidural, in a little while, so the anesthesiologist should be here in about half an hour. In that time between, I’m going to recommend that you and Matt, well, basically that you make out like teenagers. Carefully. And I know labor and contractions isn’t exactly the most romantic mood, nor is this the most romantic setting, but it does work.”  
“You actually want me to…” Matt blushed, and Sylvie might’ve too, but she was pretty much beyond blushing now. Callie had literally been all up in her business for the last few hours, so privacy was pretty relative at this point anyway.

“It’s all about getting her oxytocin revving, it also has a nice painkilling property if it’s natural as opposed to the synthetic. So, yes, I want you to make your wife feel good, Matt. Even if it’s just a lot of kissing and some nipple stimulation, that’s usually enough to kickstart a nice little increase in her dilation and speed up labor.”

“Well, there you go, Matt.” Sylvie couldn’t help laughing. “Kissing you is literally medicinal. That is a prescription I think I like.”  
“I’ll go check on your father, see who else is lingering in the waiting room.”  
“Severide and Kidd are still out there, I think. Maybe some of the others. I told them to go home but….” Matt shrugged.

“Thanks, Mom.”  
“Half an hour?” Mom confirmed with Callie, who nodded.

Sylvie hadn’t had a lot of time to really just make out with Matt in the last couple weeks. Her hormones had been all over the place and it seemed inevitable that when she most felt a desire for him, Matt was on shift. She also hoped it was normal that she had no interest whatsoever in his penis. She liked how his touch made her feel, but maybe it was a horrible selfish phase, but that was really all she was interested in, the feeling. She liked kissing and cuddling with Matt, but she didn’t even want to see his penis. Luckily, Matt was totally focused on her at the moment. The kissing was comfortable and sweet, tongues dueling lazily, and his hands roaming pretty freely over her, focusing a lot on her boobs and nipples. Her contractions seemed a little less painful through the distraction of him. Then he moved to sucking on her nipples, and that felt really good. She felt his hand between her legs, and she jumped.

“Matt.”  
“What?” He asked, pulling his mouth from her right nipple.

“Are you seriously putting your fingers down there?”  
“I wasn’t planning on inserting anything, but I’m pretty sure I read that the ‘big guns’ for oxytocin release is an orgasm and you’ve, uhm, gotten pretty good at coming quick if I play with your clit so yeah, I was going to put my fingers ‘down there’. I could put my mouth there, but since I just scrubbed my hands for the fourth time this morning, that seems the cleaner option.”  
“You’re really going to get me off while I’m laboring.”  
“It’s supposed to help the oxytocin levels to help speed up labor, right?” Matt nodded that he was going to do exactly that. “Unless you tell me you don’t want me to, of course. It’s totally your call.”  
“I don’t know, with the contractions, if I can even…but what the hell.”

It turned out, she totally could orgasm while in labor. Her whole body was sensitized, and Matt knew exactly the most sensitive spots on her body already anyway. Maybe it was a little more than Callie had intended, but as Sylvie came down from a quick orgasm (nowhere near as intense as some of the ones she enjoyed with Matt, but still nice) she didn’t regret it either. Matt adjusted her clothing back a bit, and then she pulled him into another kiss, just as there was a knock on the door, and Callie peeked around the door.

“Your anesthesiologist is here to give the epidural, just as soon as I check your cervix again. Matt, do you want to help Sylvie into the position or I can get another nurse in to help.”  
“I’ll do it. As long as I get to stay above the…” Matt waved his hand sort of vaguely at Sylvie’s lower half. Given what he’d just done with his fingers, she had to laugh at his reticence. He blushed again. “We talked about this, Sylvie, I love you, and I want to be here with you, I do not actually want to see our baby come out of your vagina. And I just said the word vagina out loud – twice technically – so that is proof of how much I love you.”  
“He has like five words he struggles to even say, and yes, vagina is one of them.” Sylvie explained for Callie, laughing at the normality of Matt’s kind of ridiculous reaction to that word. She had no idea why he was so weird about it. He could unashamedly stick his tongue inside it, but calling it by the correct name bothered him.

“There are plenty of fathers who feel that way, Matt.” Callie reassured him. “Not about the word, about not wanting to see it. Sylvie, your plan said you didn’t want a mirror, right?”  
“I don’t really need to see it either, to be honest.” Sylvie confirmed.

“Well, the good news is, your little time together seems to be working – your cervix is progressing again, continuing to dilate. So, let’s get you that epidural and I think in a few hours, we’re going to get to meet Baby Casey.”

She had worried that she was going to think and say awful things when the time came to push. Maybe it was the epidural, which was sort of trippy, because she couldn’t really feel all parts of her body, but she wasn’t really thinking about much once she started pushing. Matt was behind her, a position she’d decided on when they went through the prenatal classes because she felt safest and calmest in his arms. Matt was fantastically calm through this, and she was literally and figuratively leaning on him to keep her together. Matt kept her focused. Mom was holding a leg, Callie was holding a leg, and assisting Matt in talking her through all of this, and Dr. Nguyen had the front-row seat to bringing Baby Casey into this world. Three medical students were also in the room, but Sylvie had okayed that before she was even in labor. This was a teaching hospital, after all. Matt had double-checked with her that morning that she was really okay with basically student-doctors (meaning extra people) being in the room, but she truly was. She also appreciated that Matt would be the jerk who said ‘get out’ if she needed it – he wasn’t afraid of confrontation, certainly not in her stead. All she could think about right now was the pressure she felt, like she had to take the biggest poop she’d ever had in her life and it just wouldn’t end. In fact, Callie had been practically ecstatic when Sylvie had called her and said ‘I have to poop, right now’. Callie had chuckled and said, “no, Sylvie, you just have to have this baby.”

“Breathe with me, you feel me, keep pace, baby.” Matt encouraged in her ear. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and it really did make it easier to try to pace her breathing. It was like a strange version of the kangaroo care for the baby, matching biorhythms. Their hands were laced together, her arms resting on his, and she let some of her weight rest against him in between the pushes.

“Push with each contraction, Sylvie. I know they’re a little harder to feel after an epidural, so just listen to me and Matt, okay?” Callie coached. Whatever sign Callie was waiting for must’ve come, because then, “Push, Sylvie, you got this.”  
“You are doing so fantastically, Sylvie. Hard as you can. You’re doing great.” Matt was in her ear, a mix of encouragement and reminders to push as hard as she could. She swore he was leeching energy into her, like he was pushing his own energy into her while she tried to push their baby out. It was also way too hot, he was like a damned oven. Cuddlier, but like a cuddly encouraging oven.

“You are too hot, Matt.”  
“I thought I had at least eight weeks or so before I heard anything like that again.” Matt joked softly.

“No, I mean, how are you this hot? Like normal people are 98.6 and you always feel like 108.6. Which isn’t possible, I know, but you…if you weren’t so perfect right there, except the heat, I’d hate sitting with you like this because you’re hot and sweaty and _gross_.”  
“I think that’s the _nicest_ thing a woman giving birth has ever said to her husband.” Matt laughed pretty openly. He must’ve caught some signal from Callie, he leveraged her up a little, “Ready to push again? You got this, Sylvie, I know you’re tired, but hard as you can, _push_.”

“Keep pushing, you’re nearly there.” Callie added firmly.

“I can’t, Matt, I can’t, I can’t.” She shook her head, she was just too tired and too everything and she tried to calm her breathing before she started crying. She couldn’t push any harder, she couldn’t.

“Sylvie, you are the strongest, most amazing person I have ever met. I know you can do this.” Matt dropped his chin to her shoulder, as close to her as he could possibly get, his voice low and just for her, “baby, if I could take this for you, I would in a second, you know that. A thousand times, I wish I could, but you can do this, you’re stronger than I could ever be, and you can do this.”  
“I can’t.”  
“Sylvie, baby, there is _nothing_ you can’t do. You have to push just a little longer. You are absolutely strong enough to do this. Your mom knows it, Dr. Nguyen knows it, Callie knows it, I know it. So believe it.”  
“Sylvie, you need to push.” Dr. Nguyen directed. “The baby is crowning. Baby Casey is going to arrive very soon.”  
“Next contraction, just keep pushing, Sylvie.” Callie met her eyes firmly. “Ready? Push, keep pushing.”  
“You got this, Sylvie, keep pushing. Keep pushing.” Matt repeated it like a mantra in her ear and she got sort of tunnel vision, like it was her whole universe, just trying to push like she had never pushed, the biggest longest poop of her life really, and she had no idea how long it was, but then she felt the pressure release and she knew, just the second before she heard her baby’s cries for the first time.

“It’s a boy.” Dr. Nguyen announced with a happy smile. Sylvie barely took in anything besides the beautiful sound of her baby crying healthily, and Callie helped her bare her chest fully, just as her baby was laid on her chest, bare skin to bare skin and she had never seen or felt anything more perfect and precious in her life than that small body against her chest. She leaned back against Matt. Her arms held her baby to her, and Matt’s arms wrapped around her, gently – around the rather uncomfortable prodding and pushing on her stomach of Callie. Sylvie didn’t care about anything, really, anything other than staring at her baby.

“Sylvie.” Matt’s calm had apparently completely disappeared. She could hear and feel his breath hitching a little. His head rested against the side of hers. “I love you. Thank you. It isn’t enough, not nearly enough, but thank you. My God.” Matt clearly tried to gather himself, but he failed briefly, his breath was coming in little gasping sobs, so much like when they’d found out they were pregnant.. “I love you.” Matt repeated it several times, as he worked to calm his breathing, then his hand reached up, covering her own, over their baby’s tiny back. “God, Sylvie, you are both perfect. Look at him. Our _son_.”


	19. Welcome to the Family

Mom went out to the waiting room to start bringing people in, one or two at a time. She wasn’t up to a whole room full of people. She kind of wished they had gone the gender-reveal route, though, because she wished she was there to see their faces when Mom announced Baby Casey was a boy. Matt had been calling the baby ‘her’ and ‘she’ for so long, it was going to feel a little strange to transition to a boy. She was mesmerized, though, by her baby, her son. _Matt_ ’s son. She couldn’t shake this image in her head of a little boy who looked just like Matt. Sylvie had insisted Mom wait to tell even Dad until after she’d had her skin-to-skin half-hour and the baby had actually fed for the first time (with some help from the lactation consultant), and been weighed, measured, and cleaned up. By that time, it was nearly 4 o’clock. She looked at Callie, as Mom left the room, and asked,

“Can we have Matt do some skin-to-skin too?”  
“Absolutely.” Callie smiled broadly. “Matt, if you want to do it, you’ll have to take your shirt off – but I can give you a cover if you’re shy.”  
“I think Callie is trying to tell me I’m not nearly as ‘hot’ as you say I am, babe.” Matt smiled at Sylvie, his tone clearly reflecting Callie’s gentle teasing, but peeled his t-shirt over his head immediately.

“Have a seat. That chair reclines a bit, it’ll help you keep baby boy on your chest. No pressure, but if you’ve got a name, we do have to tag him before he can go to the nursery – remember, his chip is matched to yours, he can’t leave the floor without Momma. We check him in to the nursery and scan him in when he’s in the room with you. He can be listed as just ‘Baby Boy Casey’ for now.”  
“We’re still deciding, but…I think we’re close.” Matt looked at her, and she nodded. They had narrowed their lists down pretty far for both a girl and a boy, but wanted to wait on the final decision to meet the baby. Sylvie started crying again, as Callie helped Matt settle his son against his chest after he’d been weighed. She blamed it on hormones, or maybe the fact that Matt was crying softly as his son settled onto his chest, right over his heart. She’d always known, right from the start of her pregnancy (and sort of before), but now she could see it, somehow, in his face and his body language, that a child to call his own, a family to call his own, was the only dream of his that really mattered to him. She had given it to him. She felt exhausted, overwhelmed, a little scared, and utterly in love, but right now, watching Matt and their baby boy, she mostly felt proud. Those were _her_ boys.

Callie smiled, and softly announced,

“Your son, by the way, is 19 inches long and weighs 5 pounds and 5 ounces.”  
“Isn’t that…is he okay that small?” Sylvie asked, concerned. She could see he was small, but it sounded bad. “Average is around 7 pounds, isn’t it?”  
“For a 40-week gestational age baby, yes, but your little guy is early, which explains his lower weight. Of course, we’ll keep an eye on him because there are sometimes a few complications with low birth weight babies, but right now, I wouldn’t be concerned.” Callie reassured her.

“I weighed less when I was born, Sylvie.” Matt reminded her softly. He was still staring down at his son, whose head was resting right over Matt’s heart. His right hand cradled much of the baby’s body. “My grandmother once told me I came home from the hospital less than five pounds. She’d had four babies of her own, lots of nieces and nephews, looked at me and asked how to diaper a butt that skinny. Wish I’d kept that skinny butt, good luck to you, kiddo.” Matt stretched his neck a little, and kissed the top of his son’s head ever so gently.  
“You have a _fantastic_ butt, shut up.” Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“He’s perfect, Sylvie.” Matt was crying again, gentle tracks she could just see catching the light from the window, winding down his cheeks. “Hey, Peanut, you recognize my voice? I’m the goofy one who’s been talking to you through Mommy’s stomach this whole time. Sorry about calling you a girl, Peanut. I promise, you’re exactly perfect, everything I wanted. I love you so much, son. No matter what. For always. Remember that.”

Matt had about fifteen minutes of skin-to-skin time before Mom appeared with Dad. In that time, they settled on a name. It didn’t take much discussion really. It felt right. Callie swaddled the baby up quickly (Sylvie knew she’d get that quick, but wasn’t there yet), and Matt gave over the chair to Mom, who claimed first right to hold her grandbaby. Sylvie was tearing up again, watching her parents in such awe and falling in love with her son. Matt pulled her into his arms, gently.

“I love you so much.”  
“I love you, too, Matt.” Sylvie smiled through her tears. “I’m just kind of overwhelmed and emotional right now.”  
“You’re exhausted and your hormones have to be going all over the place. Babe, you cry all you want, no one is judging you. Cry, scream, hell, you can grab my balls again – you literally can do no wrong in my eyes. Possibly ever again.”  
“That’s going a bit too far.” Sylvie chuckled at him anyway. “And I am sorry about that. I really didn’t mean to grab you there, but you moved.”  
“Hm. I don’t believe you. You did warn me though, to keep my boys out of reach.”  
“Is it horribly sore?”  
“Compared to everything you went through in the last twenty or so hours? Sylvie, I think you owe me about 900 shots to the balls to even come close.” Matt kissed her forehead softly. “Do you think we should introduce our boy to his grandparents properly?”

“You’ve picked a name?” Dad asked, still sounding pretty giddy. He had been so excited about becoming a grandpa, ever since the announcement. And of course, Sylvie hadn’t noticed until just now, he was wearing a t-shirt that actually said in large letters across the chest ‘Promoted to Grandpa, 2021’. Matt nodded to her, and Sylvie knew that meant he wanted to let her tell her parents their decision.

“Mom, Dad, meet John Andrew Casey. John after Grandpa Lindstrom, and Andrew for Matt’s friend, Andy Darden.” Sylvie smiled up at Matt. They’d agreed on Andrew in the middle, for a man she’d never met but knew had once meant a very great deal to her husband, months ago. Finding the perfect first name had been harder. “We’re going to call him Jack.”  
“Jack.” Mom was crying now. “He’d be so proud, Sylvie, your grandpa.”

“Am I going to get a turn to hold my grandson?”  
“Wait. Let me get a picture.” Matt snapped one quickly with his phone. “I’ll send it to you, you can send it out to everyone back in Fowlerton. Grandma.”  
“I don’t want to share him.” Mom admitted with a soft smile. “But, I suppose I’ve shared everything else with you for this many years, so...” She stood up, letting Dad take the chair, and easily handed off the baby. It was clear that both her parents still remembered how to hold an infant. Matt was nervous when he held the baby, but he was getting better quickly. Mom took over picture duty, snapping a picture of Dad with his grandson.

“Cathy, can I get that billboard now? My grandson deserves a billboard.”  
“He’s serious.” Mom shook her head, turning to Sylvie and Matt. “He’s been wanting to put ultrasounds up on a highway billboard to show off. I keep telling him that bragging isn’t very Christian of him.”  
“Look at him. Look at our grandson.” Dad just shook his head, staring at Jack. “He’s so perfect. If it’s bragging and a sin, it’s _worth_ it.”  
“I think an actual billboard might be a bit much, even for a newly-promoted Grandpa.” Sylvie had to laugh a little. She looked at Matt, and saw a wistful look on his face. She brushed her fingers along his jaw softly.

“Matt?”  
“Let him brag, Sylvie.” Matt smiled, a little wetly, at her. “Jack’s only got one grandfather. He has twice the amount of spoiling and bragging to do.”  
  


Callie kicked Mom and Dad out (Sylvie suspected Matt had subtly prompted her) so that Jack and Sylvie could both have dinner. Her parents agreed to go find dinner, and come back later in the evening. Sylvie got a patient meal, complete with stool softener to help prep her for the onerous coming tasks of voiding both bladder and bowels after giving birth. Matt left the room for a few minutes, coming back in with Stella, Kelly, and a bag of Portillo’s takeaway. Leave it to Kelly to drive out of his way to get Matt’s favorite for dinner tonight. Kelly Severide usually went for subtle things like that to show how much he adored his ‘little brother’ – whom he also teased mercilessly and occasionally stopped speaking to for ridiculous reasons. If you looked carefully, though, Kelly’s fierce protective love for Matt was there for all to see. Sylvie hoped that if they had another boy, whenever ( _far_ from now) they had their second child, Jack would be a big brother kind of like Kelly.  
“Can I hold the baby?” Stella asked immediately.

“You-“  
“We all got our DTAPs, Case.” Kelly rolled his eyes. “Everyone in the house got a booster, a month ago, because you said no shot, no baby Casey time. Remember?”  
“Careful with-“  
“I’ve held a baby before, Captain.” Stella cut him off this time, as she accepted Jack carefully from Sylvie.

“So, your mom could work for the CIA, Brett.” Kelly remarked. “She managed to assure everyone that Baby Casey was born at 2:48 pm, perfectly healthy, though a little on the small side, and wouldn’t say a damned thing about a name or even sex.”

“She seriously didn’t tell you guys?” Sylvie asked, surprised.  
“Nope. Room full of damned anxious firefighters asking her, too.”  
“Room full of people waiting to see who won the betting pool. Who’s leading?” Matt asked pointedly.

“Herrmann. We almost disqualified him on principle. He was closest to the right day and weight, but got time of birth wrong – he thought middle of the night baby. Foster got closest to the time of day – she went for 2:45 pm, damn close.”  
“Stop swearing in front of my child, Kelly.” Sylvie reprimanded him a little sharply.  
“He’s not going to be talking for months, Sylvie.” Matt pointed out.

“And he doesn’t need to start talking like a firefighter.”  
“Point taken.” Matt acquiesced quickly.

“He?” Stella laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, Captain, are you disappointed?”  
“He’s perfect. I couldn’t be happier.” Matt replied easily and honestly. Sylvie could tell. He really wasn’t disappointed at all. He shook his head at her, apparently not wanting to announce the name just yet. After a minute or two, Stella sighed, and turned to Kelly.

“You want to hold him? We should probably let them have some time to eat.”  
“And let the rest of the house trickle through.” Sylvie knew it was coming. It was a tough lot in life, but someone had to be popular, and her baby boy was certainly going to be well-loved.

“Everyone but the Herrmanns, Chief, and Donna, went home after your mom promised us everyone was healthy. I think Cindy convinced them that you and Peanut both would deal better with visitors tomorrow.” Stella replied.  
“I love that woman.” Sylvie admitted.

“Everyone does. She’s practically a saint. Has to be, she’s been married to Herrmann for twenty-seven years.” Kelly replied, though his eyes were locked on the baby in his arms.

“What do you think, Uncle Kelly?” Matt asked, grinning proudly.

“He’s tiny, Case.”  
“We’d like you to be his godfather. If you’re willing.” Sylvie remarked, not waiting for Matt to get around to telling him this time. “He’s going to be baptized Catholic in a few weeks – Father still has to set the date exactly, since we didn’t really expect the baby yet.”

“Yeah, of course, I’d be honored. I’m not a great Catholic, though, man.” Kelly looked at Matt directly, which made sense, since he was the Catholic parent.

“That’s only part of it.” Matt took a deep breath, and Sylvie grabbed a tissue because she knew Matt was going to say something sweet and endearing and rare for these two guys. “I’m asking you, I’m _trusting_ you, to take care of my son – to help Sylvie, to watch over both of them for me, Kelly, if I can’t. I want you to promise me you’ll-“  
“Yeah, Case.” Kelly cut him off, visibly getting emotional, then managed, “Matt, I promise. If I can’t save your ass from whatever Captain America move you pulled, which is always going to be my first choice-“

“Amen.” Sylvie cut in loudly.

“I’ve got him, Matt. I’ve got them both. I promise.”  
“Thanks, Kelly.” Matt smiled. “So, I guess this is a good time to introduce you properly. Jack, this is your crazy Uncle Kelly. Don’t believe any stories he ever tells you about me. Sev, this is Jack – technically, John Andrew Casey.”  
“Andrew.” If Kelly hadn’t been in tears before (it was close), a few escaped now. “Hey, Peanut, good to finally meet you. And trust me, all the stories I’m gonna tell you about your daddy and our friend Andy, your namesake, they’re all true, no matter how crazy it sounds.”

It was nearly 7 pm when Matt led Cindy, Herrmann, Chief, and Donna into the room. Mom and Dad had dropped by quickly again, but then been sent back to the house to get settled into the guest room about the time Sylvie and Jack had been moved from the Labor & Delivery unit to the Mom & Baby unit – once it was decided Jack wasn’t likely to need the NICU despite his low birth weight. Mom was staying in Chicago for a while and would be getting really settled into the basement suite. Dad had to go home to set some things up on the farm – he was going to be coming and going from Fowlerton every few days. It was the middle of planting season and Dad didn’t really have a full-time back-up available (though she suspected Hank Kemper was going to help as much as he could). They’d been up early, and were tired. So was everyone else. Sylvie had agreed with Matt that seeing the two couples, Herrmanns and Bodens, together would save time, and Sylvie was exhausted and ready for bed. She suspected Matt was, too – it didn’t sound like he’d gotten any sleep last night either.

“How’re you feeling?” Cindy asked gently.

“I’m sore in places I didn’t think it was possible to be sore.” Sylvie admitted, but she was smiling broadly anyway. She looked down at her son, who was snuggled against her chest. He’d just eaten, again, and Sylvie was ecstatic that she and Jack had both apparently taken to breastfeeding like it was something they’d both been doing forever. Matt had looked a combination of awed and a little uncomfortable, but they’d talk about that later – she knew he had no problem whatsoever with women breastfeeding, even in public like at a restaurant or something, so it was probably just some weird little aspect he hadn’t ever really thought of before. Or maybe it was just the newness of the fact it was them now, not someone near them in a restaurant. “I’m not saying anytime soon, but I’d do it again. He’s worth it.”

“He?” Herrmann’s face lit up. “It’s a boy?”  
“Yeah, looks like I have to be grateful Sylvie’s not saying he’s gonna be an only child if I want a little princess to spoil.” Matt was grinning broadly, almost laughing. He was so proud, Sylvie would’ve called it ‘fit to bust’ if they were still in Fowlerton. He moved over to Sylvie and gently took Jack from her arms. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she knew what he was asking. She nodded. He turned, looking more confident with his son in his arms than he had earlier, and took the few steps over to Cindy. He glanced back at Sylvie, as if looking for reassurance that she really wanted _him_ to do this. She nodded again.

“We, Sylvie and I talked a lot, and Cindy, if you’d do us the honor, we’d like you to be his godmother. Severide’s the godfather, but you and Herrmann are some of the best examples of Catholic family life we could look for, so….”  
“Oh, stop struggling for the words, Matthew Casey.” Cindy reached out, though she had tears in her eyes, and hugged Matt gently, around Jack. She pulled back after a second. “Now, hand me my godson.”

“What’s his name?” Herrmann asked, as Matt handed over his son.

“We’re calling him Jack, but his full name is John Andrew Casey.”  
“Andy would be proud, Matt.” Chief put a hand on Matt’s shoulder warmly.

“Jack.” Cindy smiled down at the baby. “Welcome to the family, Jack Casey. You’ve got some pretty big fans already at my house, you know.”  
“The kids wanna come by tomorrow, if that’s okay.” Herrmann added, looking to Sylvie.

“The afternoon would be alright. My brother is driving up early in the morning, and Matt, you said Christie and Violet are coming by, right?”  
“Yeah, but really early – I can put them off if-“  
“No, it’s fine. I know it’s a really bad time in the school year to pull Violet out.”  
“I argued being late one day was not a big deal. My sister may have replied that that attitude is why I barely got out of high school and she got a scholarship to Swarthmore.” Matt shrugged. “So, yes, they’ll be here at 7, briefly, before Violet has to go to school.”

“Tomorrow afternoon is fine, Herrmann.”  
“There’s been a stomach bug going around Terrence’s school. We’re going to wait to expose the baby to him.” Donna volunteered. “Jack, come see your Auntie Donna for a minute.”  
“He’s perfect, guys, but kinda scrawny.” Herrmann remarked.

“Takes after his mother – looks skinny but really strong.” Matt laughed lightly. Sylvie smacked his arm.

“Me? I’ve seen pictures of you when you were a kid. You looked like no one fed you half the time. And you’re still skinny. It’s not fair, you eat bacon and chocolate and drink lots of beer and you’re still…that.” She waved generally at him. She turned to Herrmann. “He’s a couple weeks early, the doctor thinks if he’d gone full-term he’d be more like a 7-pound baby.”  
“He looks…like a wrinkled old man.” Chief laughed. “Perfect for a baby a few hours old.”

“Hey, you mind if we spread the word – name and that he’s a boy, of course?” Herrmann asked.

“Raise all the toasts tonight at Molly’s you want, Herrmann.” Matt chuckled. “Hey, Chief, I hate to ask with such short notice, but can I get cover for shift-“  
“Oh, no.” Sylvie cut that off right now. “You are going to work next shift.”  
“Babe, you just had a baby. I should be here.”  
“Nope.” Sylvie insisted. She had a plan for this. “You are going to shift, because I am still going to be here in the hospital. I will have Mom here, and nurses, and plenty of help. Dr. Nguyen said we’ll go home the sixteenth, morning most likely. So, Chief, all due respect, please keep my husband busy.”

“You… _want_ me to go to work?” Matt looked confused.

“Mom is going to be here for ten days. Then she’s going to have to go back to Fowlerton for a week, before she can come back – when we planned for her to be here after the due date.”

“I know, but-“  
“Matt, I love you very dearly, but it will be much more helpful to me for you to save your leave for the time Mom isn’t here so I can have you home that week. The CFD only really gives you three shifts for paternity leave.”

“You’re sure? If that’s what you want, I guess, it makes sense.”  
“That’s settled then. Get me the dates you’ll be gone, we’ll get a relief officer in for 81. Now, if my wife would share, I’d like a little time with Jack before we go.” Chief gently took the baby from Donna, and Sylvie leaned into Matt, who settled on the bed at her side. Chief and Herrmann only took a few minutes each with Jack, and then Herrmann handed her son back to her. After quiet goodbyes – Jack had fallen back asleep despite being passed around – they were alone, just the three of them, for a few minutes at least before the nurses checked in again. Just the three of them, the little Casey family. Despite being incredibly sore and beyond exhausted, Sylvie didn’t think she’d ever been happier than she was in this moment, her snuggling into Matt’s arms and Jack snuggled into hers.

“Sylvie?” Matt almost whispered into her ear.

“hm?”  
“I talked to Dr. Charles, when I was shot. I, uh, apparently there was some concern about trauma, psychological trauma. Anyway, I was fine about that, I think it scared you more than it did me. But I talked to him about…he said to call him when I was ready for recommendations.”  
“Recommendations for what?” She didn’t quite follow where he was going.

“I’m going to call him tomorrow. I want to start therapy.”  
“Matt, are you…” She turned as much as she could, trying to meet his eyes.

“I’m sure.” He said firmly. “I looked at you, feeding our child, today, and something in me just…clicked or something. Some things have to change.”  
“Matt, are you unhappy or-“  
“God, no, Sylvie, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. Happier than I ever thought I’d get to be.” Matt squeezed her a little tighter, though still gently. “You and Jack, you are…all my dreams come true, with silver linings, and the pocketful of gold.”  
“I think there’s a reference there I’m supposed to get, but don’t.” Sylvie could tell from his tone he was citing something or quoting something, but she couldn’t place it.  
“ _I_ need to change. Not you. Definitely not our perfect hours-old son. _Me_.”  
“Matt, no, I don’t want you to change.” She loved him exactly the way he was.  
“Yeah, you do.” Matt kissed her cheek softly. “Most importantly, you and Jack deserve for me to change some things, things about myself, the way I…think about…mostly me, I guess. You and our son, you deserve the absolute best me. Not a different guy, just the best _me_. God, I’m screwing this up. This is why I try not to talk, because I can’t say anything right.”  
“Matt. Stop. Try again. What’re you trying to say?”  
“I’m trying to say I need to let go of a lot of crap I’m carrying around, if I want to be the best husband and the best father that I can be. I need help to do that. So I know it’s not the best time to start something new, something more to throw into our schedule, but I’m not really asking. I’m saying. I’m starting therapy.”

Sylvie turned, and sure it was an uncomfortable angle, but she caught his lips and kissed him. She hadn’t had any reservations at all about Matt as a husband or a father, but she worried about him so much, not just physically but the way he seemed to feel about himself sometimes.

“Matt, I love you exactly as you are. Even the frustrating bits and the slightly scary bits, and the dangly bits that got me into all this being pregnant, painful labor and giving birth thing. Your son is going to love you, too, no matter what. All we need is for you to love you at least half as much as you love us, and I don’t care how much juggling it takes for our schedule. We’ll make it work. _You matter_ , baby. We need you, Matt.”

This day wasn’t supposed to be able to get any happier. But he’d made her even happier, because it felt like…at least they’d started two important journeys today. Parenthood, of course. But also, some healing for Matt. What more could she possibly ask for? A beautiful son and a husband willing to push himself to be everything he could for her and their son; that was all she needed. That, and about twenty hours of sleep. She let Matt hold her, and help support Jack, while she dozed in his arms and Jack slept soundly in hers.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rarely read much in a fandom while I am writing, so I can avoid accidentally borrowing anything or overlapping ideas, etc. So, I had this whole story roughed out and largely drafted before I read any part of Happy45's Family Portraits. Hopefully nothing too much has overlapped, beyond an accidental bit of baby-naming. Hopefully no offense is taken at the overlap (and I confess, I unabashedly named Baby Casey after my nephew: his baby picture currently included in Part 5's draft might explain the inspiration!). 
> 
> I don't know if there WILL be a part 5, though, or anytime soon anyway. There might be, or it might be a while. I have a possible Story 5 framed out and parts of it drafted, but I'm tired or something. Writing it out has been a lot harder than the previous four stories and rather slow going thus far. If inspiration hits, it may suddenly start to come together into something. I don't know. I'm venturing into another fandom (Outlander, just reading fic and watching the second season currently) to sort of 'freshen the palate' in hopes that it will bring me back around, rather like an intermezzo, I suppose. Thank you all for your kudos and comments, they are both appreciated and inspirational. I have written, by my rough math, nearly 280,000 words in just less than 3 months. Maybe I'm just written out for a little bit. At any rate, my best hope is to have it ready to start posting in mid-June, but mid-June I am away from home for work for 10 days. I won't write while away, as I will be sharing my space with colleagues and I do not write in shared space (too distracting, can't work in long enough blocks). So, if rapid inspiration hits and I can start posting in a couple days, we may get through Story 5 before I leave. If not...I have no idea when it might all come together. I will not start posting until I am confident it will be finished - I couldn't stand to be the author who left a story incomplete. I'd much rather leave the whole series right at this point.


End file.
